The Lion and The Snake - a Wilted Rose and Muddy Blood rewrite
by Raptor.Elephant
Summary: Hermione Granger makes a bet with Lavender Brown that she can win over the heart of Slytherin Prince, Draco Malfoy, in one month. But can a bet really alter the feelings of hatred that have existed between two mortal enemies for so long? Rewrite of my 2009 fanfiction, Wilted Rose and Muddy Blood.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:**

Hi all!

This here is a rewrite of my 2009 fanfiction 'Wilted Rose and Muddy Blood'. It's something I've been meaning to do for a few years, and I finally found myself with some free time while I waited for the returning of edits for my original novel, Prodigy Blood (there is info on my profile if you're interested, it's not available quite yet, though.)

I've quickly edited through this fanfic but please excuse slopping writing or mistakes as I've been busy with other stuff. That isn't to say that this rewrite isn't a helluva lot better than the original (which is still up on my profile but I don't recommend bothering with it.)

So, this is a slightly OOC AU Dramione romance. There is some strong-ish language and sexual scenes, hence the M rating. There is also an almost-rape scene which I shall put a warning for at the beginning of the chapter as a trigger warning.

My upload schedule should hopefully be Monday, Wednesday and Friday. This is all pre-written, so I shouldn't have a problem keeping to it (long term readers of mine will probably know I usually suck at uploading regularly/finishing fanfics).

I think that's about it. Any questions, feel free to ask!

Hope you enjoy.

Jenni xxx

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own the world or characters in this fanfiction. Anything you recognise as the work of J. K. Rowling is not mine and nor do I claim it to be.

 **1**

There are certain words regularly used in normal day-to-day conversation. At Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, one could expect to hear the following words at least once-a-day as they walked the corridors: magic, broomsticks, homework, detention. Draco Malfoy.

It was surprising just how often Draco's name danced around the corridors. Whether spoken casually, whispered in fearful paranoia, shouted in anger or moaned in pleasure, it had become the norm to hear it regularly. It was, after all, the name of the Slytherin Prince.

With his ice-cold attitude and model-like appearance, he was a rock star; glamorous but untouchable. It made everybody _want_ to touch him. Everybody except for one:

Arching an overly bushy eyebrow, Hermione Granger peered over the page of _Hogwarts a History_ with a scowl. She had left the Gryffindor common room because Ron had been tormenting her with homework-help requests. She had thought she would find peace in the library. Apparently not.

To her right, a gaggle of shameless third-year girls were crowded in a semi-circle, giggling. Concealed from Madam Pince behind a well-placed bookcase, they were out of troubles view, but, not, unfortunately, out of Hermione's. She could hear every last cringing word they said. About Draco Malfoy. _Ugh_! What made it worse, Hermione felt, was the fact that they were Hufflepuff's. She had thought they would know better. She had thought they would hate the purebred boy as much as she did.

"-Rhea was telling me that Aria snuck into the changing rooms and saw him _topless!_ " a girl whispered loudly, enunciating topless with an over-the-top dramatic flourish. Gasps and giggles followed her words. _Was I this annoying at thirteen?_

"Did you hear he broke up with Pansy?"

"Thank Merlin! She's a real bitch. You know, I don't even think she _fancies_ him. I heard she just went out with him for the attention. What a whore."

"Shhh!" Another girl hissed as a Slytherin fifth year passed by the group, a suspicious pile of nonpareil book in her arms. It would serve the girls right if their gossip got back to Parkinson, Hermione decided as she slammed her book shut in frustration. The gaggle of girls were already resuming their gossip – clearly, Hermione would achieve nothing of merit in here today. Collecting her books and turning her back to the girls' she left the library, glad that the hallway was silent in comparison.

Without her permission, Hermione's mind wandered to thoughts of the third years' conversation as she headed back to the Gryffindor dormitory. Draco Malfoy? Personally, she couldn't understand the appeal. Perhaps he was attractive, in an ice prince, cold-hearted _bastard_ kind of way but he was also a huge and utter arsehole. Despicable, deceitful, callous and unnaturally _horny_ just to name a few. Hermione couldn't count on her fingers the number of times she had spied him behind some tapestry or other with a different girl in arms. No wonder Parkinson had broken up with him.

As if the universe could hear her thoughts and wanted to screw with her, Hermione, not paying attention as she rounded a corner, slammed heavily into the chest of said ice prince. He had been slipping out of his favourite make-out spot, straightening his tie as he did. He was a head taller than her, and his chest was surprisingly firm. Hermione sprung away from him so quickly that an onlooker might think he had electrocuted her.

"Watch it, Mudblood," he scowled, eyes narrowing. "Spying were you?" A small smirk spread across his face. "I've seen you sniffing around here a few times. You have to know I wouldn't touch you with a ten-foot pole? In fact, I should take a hot shower now, get rid of those filthy Mudblood germs." Hermione's cheeks flushed hot with anger, but he was walking away before her brain could catch up enough to even think of some form of retaliation. His words no longer brought tears to her eyes, but, instead, fuelled her hatred for him. It was building up steadily, becoming a fiery blizzard. One day, Hermione thought, it would bubble over and she would snap. Secretly, she couldn't wait for that day.

Her cheeks still burnt hot as Hermione entered the warm and familiar common room. Ron and Harry were where she had left them, except now they had abandoned their – no doubt unfinished – homework in favour of a game of wizards' chess. Ginny Weasley sat close, her attention fixed solely on Harry. Her eyes followed his every move; the girl couldn't be any more obvious if she tried. She only tore her eyes away as Hermione sat down next to her and huffed loudly, blowing a strand of puffy hair away from her face.

"What's up?" Concern licked her brown eyes as she noted Hermione's expression.

"Just the usual insults from our favourite Slytherin." She gave a half-hearted shrug, letting them know it was no big deal. Harry and Ron immediately stopped playing chess and turned to face their best friend with matching looks of anger.

"What did he say? I'll kill him!"

"Calm down Ronald; his petty insults hardly upset me anymore. To be perfectly honest I'm more frustrated with the fact that I can't find a single place in this damn castle where I don't either bump into him or hear his name. Why is this whole place infatuated with him? I don't understand the appeal."

"It's a popularity thing," Ginny said. "Everyone knows he's a bastard, but he's a bastard they can't have, and so they want him. The fact that he's hot helps."

"Ginny!" Ron exclaimed in horror, his eyes full of disgust.

"Oh relax Ron! The guy's a prick, and I hate his guts. Doesn't mean he's not a hot prick, though. He rocks that whole bad boy façade."

"Façade?" Hermione arched an eyebrow.

"You think he's as bad as he makes out?"

"I think he's worse. Trust me; there's no good inside of him. If you ripped out his heart, it would be an icy shrivelled black lump of hatred."

"Hm," Ginny said noncommittally.

"You disagree?"

"I dunno," she said. "I mean, I reckon real deep down there has to be something else. Maybe by his toes?"

"I think you're barking mad," Ron said, scowling. "Sounds like you're defending him or something." Ginny rolled her eyes and climbed to her feet. "And just where are you going?"

"To find Malfoy for a nice shag," she replied over her shoulder, her eyes twinkling mischievously. Ron stuttered incoherently, his face turning a nice shade of tomato. Harry chuckled with embarrassment but said nothing. He knew better than to get involved.

"Honestly, what vulgar language," Hermione said. "She's almost as bad as you, Ronald."


	2. Chapter 2

**2**

When Hermione went to bed that night she found Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil waiting for her crossed-legged on her bed. Hermione groaned audibly.

"What is it you want?" Folding her arms across her chest, Hermione glared. She was _not_ in the mood. Malfoy had annoyed her enough for one day; she wasn't mentally prepared to deal with her roommates from hell and whatever sinister plan they had conducted as well. Until they moved, though, Hermione had no choice but to hear them out. She wasn't sure the rules allowed for cursing roommates who wouldn't move out of your way, and Hermione _hated_ breaking the rules.

"We heard your conversation earlier," Lavender said. Hermione didn't like the smirk that played across her face.

"What conversation?" she asked cautiously.

"About Draco Malfoy," Parvati supplied eagerly.

"Oh, not you as well!" Hermione rolled her eyes. "Look, can you just move? I want to go to bed."

"We're not moving anywhere until you hear us out."

Hermione angry-sighed and uncrossed her arms. She let them fall uselessly to her side and tilted her head upwards, sucking in a deep breath. Honestly, why did she have to get stuck with the nightmare-girls for roommates? If only she were a year younger, she could have educated conversations with Ginny before bed instead of dealing with incoherent conversations about boys.

"I don't really want to talk about how attractive you find Draco Malfoy, thanks," she said finally. "Please. Just move."

"The thing is," Parvati started.

"-We think it's _you_ who finds him attractive." Okay. Hermione hadn't expected that. The confusion and disgust must have been written across her face because Lavender continued: "It was how you were talking about him."

"With disgust?"

"Oh please! Girls only get annoyed with boys when they like them."

Hermione snorted.

"See!" Parvati pointed at her enthusiastically. "That kind of reaction just proves it!"

"I don't see how."

"Well, of course, _you_ don't. You're in denial. We, however, are experts in love. Trust us."

"Okay, sure, whatever." Hermione shook her head and pulled out her wand. She had had enough of their rubbish now. If they weren't going to move from her bed, then she would just _have_ to make them. Screw the rules. Fortunately, her roommates were not _complete_ idiots. They knew Hermione could handle a wand better than either of them could ever dream too. Climbing from her bed, they both looked Hermione up and down as they passed her, a glint in their eyes that made her feel uncomfortable.

With her bed finally free, Hermione climbed in and pulled the curtains shut. She didn't re-open them once she had changed into her pyjamas. She didn't want to deal with her idiot roommates again. She stared at the ceiling for a while, trying to comprehend what an earth they had been thinking. She just couldn't figure out their logic, of lack of.

"You know I _hate_ Malfoy right?" Hermione said finally, unsure whether the two girls were still awake in the now silent dormitory.

"We know you _think_ you do," Lavender replied eagerly, almost instantly.

"No, I actually do _hate_ him."

"Why?" Parvati asked sleepily.

"Because he's _vile_. He's a Slytherin. He's pure evil. He's tried to have Harry killed and expelled. He hates me. I could go on."

Hermione's curtains opened, and suddenly there was Lavender's face, smiling eagerly; a girl on a mission.

"I will admit, most of that is true." Lavender nodded, "but opposites attract."

"Not in this case!"

"Trust me, Hermione, the way you spoke about him with that venomous passion – you dig that arse." _Dig that arse?_ She really was just speaking to a moron, wasn't she? Hermione rolled over, turning her back to Lavender.

"Good night, Lavender."

"You're just further proving my point." Hermione hated how smug Lavender sounded, it irked her beyond belief. She rolled back around.

"Why won't you let this drop?"

"Why do you want me to drop it?"

"Because it's ridiculous. I _hate_ Draco Malfoy, and he _loathes_ me."

"But you could change that." Lavender's eyes were twinkling in the dull light. Parvati had obviously succumbed to exhaustion; there was no way she would be so quiet otherwise.

"I don't want to change it."

"But you admit you could?"

"I admit nothing."

"Oh come on! I thought Hermione Granger thrived for challenges!" She had Hermione there. There were no challengers that Hermione liked to back away from. She strived for perfection in everything she did. "See, _now_ you're interested."

"What are you suggesting?" Hermione asked slowly. She couldn't believe she was even humouring Lavender. This whole conversation was beyond insane.

"Well, I'm thinking a little bet is in order."

"Nope. No." As soon as Lavender mentioned the word bet, Hermione started shaking her head. She wasn't going to like whatever it was the other girl suggested, and she wasn't going to go through with some childish bet for the sake of… what? This was a waste of her time. She could be sleeping right now. She didn't want to be tired for lessons tomorrow.

"You haven't even heard my suggestion yet."

"And I don't want to. Go to bed, Lavender."

"So you're afraid of a little bet? How an earth are you worthy to hang around with Harry Potter?" Okay, that struck a nerve.

"I'm not afraid."

"Oh really? So you'll hear me out will you?"

"Just spit it out."

"I think it's time for the snake to fall for the lion. Trust me here, I'm doing you both a favour, you'll thank me one day." She paused, waiting for Hermione to protest. When she didn't, Lavender continued. "I'll give you… let's say… one month to convince Draco Malfoy to fall in love with you."

"Right. Of course. Even if I were stupid enough to try it, what makes you think even a _hundred_ years would be enough time to make Malfoy like me, let alone love me?"

Lavender tilted her head, as if in thought. "I just… see something there. A flame. A flame fighting against a blizzard." Hermione couldn't help but raise her eyebrow there. Hadn't she herself compared her anger towards Malfoy as a flame in a blizzard? She knew Lavender took divinations seriously; she hoped she couldn't read minds now!

"And why would I do this?"

"To prove yourself?"

Hermione laughed. "Try again."

"Okay, how about to humiliate me then? Let's say, if you win, I have to… flash my boobs at Snape? And vice versa."

"Ew, no!"

"Okay, no boobs. Right. Okay, well seeing as the theme of this bet is love… whoever loses has to publically admit their love to Snape and give him a kiss."

"He'd kill us."

"He'd try, but Dumbledore wouldn't allow it."

"You know this is childish, stupid and possibly even dangerous right?" Hermione couldn't believe she was actually contemplating entering this pathetic bet that she stood no chance of winning. The idea of Lavender having to embarrass herself in front of the entire school was appealing, though. And the thought of turning down a challenge made Hermione feel sick.

"Most fun things are," Lavender said. She held out her hand confidently. "He has to say the words, though, otherwise, it doesn't count."

"He will never say those words to me. Ever. I don't want him to either." Despite that, Hermione shifted her hand. She didn't take Lavender's, not yet.

"Never say never," Lavender said. "Are you going to shake my hand or not?"

"Are you going to leave me alone if I don't?"

"Probably not."

Hermione took Lavender's hand in her own and shook it. She was sure she was making the biggest mistake of her life, but Hermione never liked to shy away from a challenge, and Lavender had just handed her the ultimate one.


	3. Chapter 3

**3**

" _You have 31 days."_

Hermione woke up suddenly, shooting up so quickly she gave herself headrush. She had had the _worst_ dream. A dream where she had entered a ridiculous bet to win the affections of Draco Malfoy. Thank Merlin _that_ wasn't real…

"Why are you laughing?" Lavender asked. Beaming ear to ear, Hermione opened the draping around her bed just into to watch Lavender clip up her bra.

"Do you have to get changed in front of everybody?"

"Stop being so prudish; we're all girls here." She sprayed deodorant under her arms, sniffing her armpits as she did. "That reminds me. I have some rules."

"Rules?" Hermione looked at her roommate blankly. What an earth was she on about now? They had been living in the same dorm for six years, why did they need rules now?

"For our bet." Holding a t-shirt against her chest, Lavender examined her reflection, flipping her hair and pouting as she did.

Hermione felt her knees go weak. Bet? That had really happened then? It wasn't a dream? Hermione's world seemed to crash down around her. What the hell had she been thinking, agreeing to something as stupid as that?! Lavender had played on her weakness, that was for sure.

"About the bet…"

"No."

"No?"

"You are not backing out. We shook on it. A deal is a deal." They _had_ shaken on it, hadn't they? Hermione groaned, flopping back down onto her mattress where she contemplated spending the rest of the day.

She couldn't do this. She couldn't stomach spending five minutes in a room with Draco Malfoy. How was she supposed to make him fall in love with her? She wasn't: it was impossible. Draco hated Hermione more than Hermione hated him.

"So, these rules," Lavender continued. "No slutty clothes. We all know the way into a man's heart is with as little clothing as possible so it would be too easy if you started wearing bralettes and mini skirts." Hermione didn't even know what a bralette was. "That doesn't mean you can't, uh, wear something a little nicer, though. Wanna borrow something? I have a cute dress you would rock." Staring numbly at the ceiling, Hermione didn't reply. She was _such. An. Idiot._ "Sure? It's real cute."

"There's another rule," Parvati pointed out. Obviously, Lavender had filled her friend in on the agreement while Hermione had still been sleeping.

"Oh yes," Lavender said. "This one is probably pretty obvious."

"What is it?" Hermione asked quietly. She couldn't bring herself to fight the bet. As Lavender had pointed out, they had shaken on it.

"No telling Malfoy. I don't think he'd help you out even if you did, but just in case, y'know?"

In the shower, a short while later, Hermione examined her naked body. It lacked the voluptuous curves that many of her fellow female year mates now sported. Her breasts were tiny; Malfoy would hardly be able to find enough flesh to actually cup one. She cringed as she realised she was picturing Malfoy cupping her boobs, while _naked_ in the shower no less! What was going on in that head of hers? Lavender had completely screwed with Hermione's usually straight-laced way of thinking.

Cheeks feeling hot, Hermione tore her eyes away from her body. This was utterly hopeless! There was no way at all that she stood even the smallest of chances of winning this bet. And if there was one thing Hermione hated, it was losing.

She needed help.

Throwing on a pair of jeans and a stripy t-shirt, Hermione rushed through the girl's dormitory and into Ginny Weasley's dorm. Fortunately, the younger girl had yet to leave for breakfast.

"Hermione? What's up? Are you ill? You look pale." Hermione didn't answer straight away. Instead, avoiding Ginny's gaze, she paced the room, wringing her fingers together. "Are you in trouble?"

"You could say that." Ginny raised an eyebrow. Hermione was never in trouble.

"What is it? How can I help? You're not… _pregnant_ are you?" That stopped Hermione in her tracks. Her jaw dropped open, and she stared at her younger friend in shocked horror.

"Pregnant? Really?!"

"Well, I mean… I didn't think you were; I was… just checking?" Hermione laughed shrilly, flopping heavily down on the nearest empty bed.

"I did something so stupid it goes beyond the veil of stupidity. I think I'd _rather_ be pregnant."

"Tell me." Ginny sat down next to her and took Hermione's hand in her own, squeezing her fingers supporting. Hermione took a deep breath.

"Bloody hell!" Ginny exclaimed when Hermione had finished telling her all about the bet with Lavender. "Bloody fucking hell." Hermione couldn't even muster up the spirit to scold Ginny for her language.

"Yup."

"What were you _thinking_?"

"I wasn't."

"That's for sure. So, what are you going to do?"

"Do?" Hermione asked weakly.

"Well, are you going to pull out?" she asked.

"I can't can I? It's pretty binding I'd say. It just depends whether I want to humiliate myself if front of Snape now or later."

"Please say later," Ginny said. "Look, you could win this you know? Malfoy may be the world's biggest prick, but he also _has_ one. You're an attractive girl; we can work with this. We just need a little…" She trailed off. _Miracle._

Rooting through a little vanity bag, Ginny revealed a pair of tweezers. "Have you ever plucked your eyebrows?" No, Hermione had not. Ginny took a deep breath. "Okay, we've got time before we need to be at breakfast. Get ready for the makeover of a lifetime."

Once again Hermione couldn't help but wonder what it was she had gotten herself into.


	4. Chapter 4

**4**

Hermione tugged self-consciously at the skirt Ginny had lent her as she walked to Potions. Just brushing her knees, it wasn't a short skirt. Hermione, however, wasn't accustomed to feeling so vulnerable. Her thighs were not on display, but she may as well have been naked for how she was feeling. Why couldn't she had stuck with the pair of jeans?

She hadn't managed to make it to breakfast; it had taken Ginny longer than they had thought to fix Hermione's disastrous bush of hair. The end result was, however - dare she say it - good. Really good. They hadn't had time to use sleekeazy's hair potion, but Ginny had miraculously tamed the bushy locks into manageable waves.

"There you are!" Ron announced as Hermione slid into her usual seat beside of him. "We were –" He cut off, opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish as he fully took in her appearance. "What… what… huh…?" Hermione couldn't help but smile.

"Something the matter, Ron?" she asked innocently, enjoying herself more than she had expected to.

"I – you… I…"

"You look really nice, Hermione," Harry said, less dumbfounded than his best friend.

"R-really _very_ nice," Ron stuttered, his cheeks turning bright red.

"Enough chatter." Snape glided into the room, barely looking at anyone before flicking his want to write on the blackboard. "Today we are making the Draught of the Living Dead. Instructions are on the board; you have two hours and, let's see… pairings shall be my choice. Silence!" he yelled coldly as groans of protest erupted around the room.

Silence fell as Snape started to list off the most unlikely and painful pairs. Most students suppressed horrified groans as they discovered their partners. Poor Neville almost fainted as Snape announced Goyle would be his.

"Weasley and Zabini," Snape continued, obviously enjoying himself. "Granger and Parkinson, which leaves, ah yes, Malfoy and Potter. Get to it."

"Granger?!" Pansy said shrilly. "But sir! I can't work with _her._ "

"And why ever not, Miss Parkinson?" Yes, definitely enjoying himself. It apparently didn't even matter that he was torturing his own house to mess with the Gryffindor's.

"That snotty know-it-all?! Sir, you can't!" Pansy didn't answer his question.

"Potter, swap with Granger," Snape drawled.

"Potter's hardly better," Pansy grumbled, but she didn't complain further. Harry sent Hermione an apologetic smile as he climbed up and moved to sit with Pansy. Hermione knew she should feel terrible about the situation she had suddenly found herself in, but in actuality, it was in her favour. Working with Malfoy meant that she had to speak to him. Speaking to him meant that she might at least, maybe, get somewhere with this stupid bet she had agreed to.

"Look's like it's you and me, Mudblood," Malfoy said quietly so that Snape wouldn't hear him.

"Fantastic," Hermione mumbled back, careful to keep the sarcasm obvious. She didn't want to let Malfoy know that she was secretively glad Snape had changed their partners. Not only was she not allowed to clue him in on the stupid bet, but it would be more embarrassing than words could say.

Without talking to Malfoy further, Hermione entered the store cupboard to collect the asphodel in an infusion of wormwood, valerian roots and sopophorous bean needed for the potion. Malfoy was leaning boredly against the desk when she returned.

"You could help, Malfoy."

"And let you miss out on all the fun?" He was studying his nails now. Hermione sighed and began to set up everything alone; she worked better alone anyway. Malfoy wasn't silent for more than a minute before he asked "so, what's with the clothes, Granger? Hoping to score with weasel? You'd probably stand a better chance if you stood naked in a vault of food."

"For your information, how I dress has nothing to do with Ron," Hermione replied curtly, deciding to ignore his insult to her best friend.

"Ah, Potter then?" Malfoy smirked, his determination to wind her up obvious.

"Did it ever occur to you that I might just fancy wearing something other than jeans?"

"Granger, girls don't wear skirts to look good. They wear skirts to get some action." Hermione turned to look at him, her eyebrows raised.

"You have a pretty warped view of girls," she said matter-of-factly. Feeling slightly daring, she continued: "Perhaps that's because the only girls you know are complete sluts, such as Parkinson?"

Malfoy's eyes narrowed dangerously as she spoke. "You should watch your mouth, Granger."

"Struck a nerve did I? I thought the pair of you broke up? It wasn't her that slipped out of that tapestry yesterday was it?"

"What's it to you?"

"I'm just getting tired of bumping into them is all." Hermione shrugged innocently. "You could at least find somewhere a little more private, right? There are eleven-year-olds here; they hardly want to hear the moaning."

"Jealous, Granger? Is that why you're showing leg? Fancy a bit of action yourself? I told you yesterday. I wouldn't touch you with a ten-foot pole."

"You think I want you to touch me?" Somehow, Hermione was still calm. She hadn't dissolved into a flustered mess yet, and that surprised her more than the words that continued to spill from her mouth like vomit. "I hardly think I'd find you all that satisfying anyway." Daringly, she lowered her gaze to his crotch for a moment.

"What potion have you been taking Granger?" Malfoy asked, breaking the spell. Hermione's gaze flittered away from him and back to the potion, her cheeks heating up a little.

"No potion," she mumbled into the bubbling liquid. "I've just heard stories."

"You've heard wrong," Malfoy snapped. If Hermione had dared to look up, she would have seen his pale cheeks flush slightly pink in embarrassment. She would have also seen him look her up and down, almost as if he were impressed. But Hermione didn't look up, and she saw none of that.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** I'm in Prague for the next few days so here's three chapters to make up for not being able to upload! Also, happy Halloween!

 **5**

Leaving lunch early, Hermione told Harry and Ron that she was going to get homework done in the library. The library, however, was the last place she wanted to go right now, where anybody could read over her shoulder. Instead, she headed to the empty Transfiguration classroom and claimed her seat for the impending lesson.

For a moment she simply sat. Her brain had gone into hyperdrive and Hermione wasn't sure how she was supposed to survive this next month. Why did she have to let Lavender get to her like that? She could have just ignored the taunts and been a lot happier for it. Now, instead, she sat, alone, with a skirt hiking halfway up her thigh, thinking of ways she could win over the affections of her worst enemy. For a stupid bet.

It wasn't possible of course, but for the sake of humouring herself, Hermione pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill.

 _Ways to win over Draco Malfoy,_ she wrote.

 _Insults amused him?_

Hermione chewed on her quill as she stared at the rest of her empty parchment, unsure. There was nothing in the world she could do that would ever even make the Slytherin Prince like her, let alone love. What was the point? It wasn't as if she could defend his honour or anything… Or could she?

"Defend him from what, though?" she mused aloud.

"You know crazy people talk to themselves, Mudblood?" Hermione screwed up her parchment as she spun around. Draco Malfoy leant against the wall of the Transfiguration classroom, watching her. How long had he been there? What was he even doing there? Class didn't start for another ten minutes.

"Oh sod off," she snapped, slipping her screwed up parchment into her bag while keeping her cold gaze level with his.

"You really should watch how you speak to me, y'know? Especially when you're alone."

"Yeah? What are you going to do?" It was hopeless. The hatred between them was never going to evolve. Hermione didn't want it to. She liked hating Malfoy. He was an evil boy who would no doubt become a Death Eater. Did she really want to associate with somebody like that? No.

"I see you're alone too." He _was_ alone. Why was he alone? Malfoy was never alone. Never. "Unusual for you to be without those dumb apes you call friends."

"I could say the same about you. Potter and Weasel get bored of you, did they? Maybe they're not partial to a bit of skirt after all." He smirked, raising an eyebrow and purposely lowering his gaze to her leg. Hermione felt both furious and ecstatic at the same time. It almost counted as flirting right?

"Grow up ferret." Draco's eyes flashed dangerously, and he took a step closer, fingers on his wand. Hermione stood abruptly, letting her own hand slide to her pocket and where her wand was waiting. "Going to attack me?" she asked calmly. "Is that wise? We both know I'm better at spells."

"And we both know you would never risk putting yourself in trouble," Malfoy said. His wand was fully out now. "I could do it y'know. Hurt you. _Kill_ you. I don't care."

"Want to spend the rest of your life in Azkaban do you?"

"So naive, Granger. We both know the Dark Lord is returning."

"And you just can't wait, am I right?" She smiled as she saw the fear in his eyes. It was as she thought. Malfoy may be stupid enough to join the Death Eaters, but he wasn't stupid enough to not be terrified of You Know Who. Despite his bravado, the Slytherin didn't want Voldemort to return any more than she did.

"Draco Malfoy!" a stern voice, laced with horror, scolded. Torn abruptly away from their standoff, the pair turned around to see Professor McGonagall standing in the doorway, eyes wide as she took in the scene. It looked bad; Hermione had to admit. Only Malfoy had his wand out, pointed at her chest… "How dare you threaten another student! Put that wand away right now. Detention for the rest of the week. Argue, and it'll be the month!"

"Professor?" Hermione blurted before her brain could decide it was a terrible idea. If she was going to take this bet seriously, then she had to do something that would really impress Malfoy. She had already decided that defending him was the best way to go about it. Now was as good an opportunity as any.

"Yes, Granger?" McGonagall's eyes softened. She probably expected Hermione to thank her for saving her.

"It was actually kind of… my fault. You see, I provoked him." Both McGonagall and Malfoy looked at Hermione in stunned silence. McGonagall opened and closed her mouth, before turning back to Malfoy.

"Is this true?"

Without missing a heartbeat, Malfoy nodded. "Oh yes, Professor. She provoked me."

"Very well. Miss Granger, you will join Mr Malfoy in detention. And ten points shall be taken from you both."

As McGonagall turned her back and moved to the front of the classroom, Malfoy arched an eyebrow at her. It said 'what the hell, Granger?' What the hell indeed? What an earth was Hermione getting herself into? And why was she so willing to allow it to happen?

Hermione sat back down just as the rest of the class started to file into the room. She couldn't wait for the bloody month to be over so that she could get back to hating Malfoy in peace. Trying to be nice to him was messing with her head too much. Changing her appearance? Willingly accepting detention for him? Hate-flirting? Hermione felt as if she needed to give herself a strong talking too. It would have to wait, though, until her month was up. Win or lose; Hermione wasn't giving up now.


	6. Chapter 6

**6**

"I don't understand," Ron said, scoffing down his evening meal without so much as chewing a single mouthful. Hermione watched him in disgusted curiosity. "How did _you_ – of all people – land detention?"

"McGonagall walked in on Malfoy pointing his wand at me," she shrugged.

"He what?!" Harry stood up abruptly, glancing around the great hall, his green eyes scanning for Malfoy, his hand lingering by his wand.

"Sit down, Harry. The last thing I want is for you to join us." _Because Harry being there would ruin everything._

"Just speak to McGonagall. She'll listen, she knows how much Malfoy hates you. She can hardly punish you for him being a prick."

"I had my wand pointed at him too," Hermione lied. "I deserve to be punished as well." She couldn't very well admit that she had purposely landed herself in detention when there had been no need. Lying was easier, and it saved the questions they would no doubt otherwise ask.

"I still think it's bullshit," Ron grumbled, picking up a chicken leg.

"Are you going to be okay, alone with Malfoy?" Harry sounded concerned. Hermione herself was a little worried as to how this detention would pan out. Teachers rarely hung about to watch the punishment, which meant that, no doubt, she would be alone in a room with somebody who had already told her once today that he was okay with killing her. Hermione just had to hope that he was all talk when it came down to it.

"I'm a big girl; I can handle myself," Hermione said, standing up. It was about time for her to leave anyway, and Hermione just wanted this conversation to be over. She just wanted this _month_ to be over. "I'll see you both later, okay?"

Hermione glanced over at the Slytherin table as she left the great hall. Malfoy was watching her. Obviously, he had no intention of walking with her to McGonagall's office.

McGonagall was waiting for her. Sitting at her desk, she didn't look up from the work she was marking as Hermione came to a stop in front of her. "Good evening, Miss Granger."

"Good evening, Professor."

"I trust Mr Malfoy is on his way?"

"I assume so." Hermione shifted her weight from one foot to another. Detention made her feel uncomfortable. She prided herself on being a model student; this bet was surely not done tainting that achievement.

Malfoy took another three minutes to show up. They were the longest three minutes of Hermione's life. As she stood in silence she mentally contemplated how the detention would play out. Would they talk? Probably not, though Hermione would have to do her best to make them. It was only the first day of the bet, but Hermione was determined to see it through to the best of her ability. To stand a chance of actually winning, she had to do as much as possible as early on as she could. Which meant that she had to talk to Malfoy. To have an actual adult conversation: _Impossible._

"Unfortunately I have a lot of marking to do and am unable to supervise your detention," McGonagall told them. No surprises there. "I trust you both are sensible enough to be able to clean the trophy room without adult supervision?"

"Of course," Malfoy answered coldly. He never hid his distaste for McGonagall. Hermione wondered how he managed to be so blatantly rude.

"Good," the Professor said, ignoring his tone. "You will be working for an hour and a half each night, _without_ magic. You may go."

They walked together in silence, but as they reached the turnoff for the trophy room, Malfoy started to take a right.

"Where are you going?" Hermione asked, folding her arms across her chest. There was no way she went through all of this just to be blown off.

"Fuck this. McGonagall said so herself, detention 'without adult supervision.' Do you think I'm going to waste an hour and a half doing slave work in a room with you, Mudblood?"

"Yes, I do," Hermione said. "You know why? Because McGonagall isn't an idiot. You really think she wouldn't charm the room? If you don't show up, she'll know." Malfoy frowned. Obviously, that thought hadn't occurred to him, and he didn't like that Hermione was right.

"You better not be lying, Granger," he snapped, turning left and storming into the trophy room. Hermione joined him seconds later to find him already leaning against the wall, arms folded with a bitter look on his face.

"So, are you planning to help at all?"

"Are you serious? I'm not a fucking house-elf. Or a Mudblood. _You_ do it all."

"You realise that if I hadn't of spoken up, you would have been cleaning this room by yourself?"

"Fucking joke…" he grumbled under his breath. Hermione decided not to argue further. Instead, she started polishing the nearest trophy. A large part of her wanted to stand around doing nothing, make it worse for Malfoy. The smaller, sensible part of her knew that would also make it worse for her, though, and Hermione couldn't bare the thought of spending longer than she had already condemned herself to in detention.

The time passed slowly and in silence. Mentally, Hermione was trying to come up with ways to begin a conversation, but it was hard when she knew she didn't actually _want_ to talk to Malfoy. When she turned to glance at Malfoy from the corner of her eye, she saw he had abandoned his 'cool' pose against the wall and had flopped onto the floor, where he looked thoroughly bored.

"We'll never get this place cleaned to McGonagall's standards by the end of the week if you don't help," Hermione pointed out to him.

"Boohoo."

"She'll add extra days," Hermione said. "You don't want to spend more time alone with me do you?"

"Of course not," Malfoy said, sounding disgusted. He didn't pick up a cloth, though, or move in any way. "How long do we have left?"

Hermione glanced at her watch. "Just over half an hour."

Malfoy heaved a sigh and stood up. "Okay, I'll clean one damn trophy. Only because I'm so bloody bored."

"Wow," Hermione said. "How helpful of you."

"Oh shut up, Mudblood."

"Stop calling me that," Hermione said, glaring at him. It was so hard to try and like the guy when he kept throwing the worst insult possible at her.

"Why? It's what you are, isn't it?"

"I'm a witch, who just so happens to have muggle parents. So what?"

"It's unnatural. Magic belongs to purebloods."

"Why?"

"Because it does," he said. "It always has. Giving muggles power is just fucking crazy. You don't deserve the power."

"I reckon you're just jealous because some of the best witches and wizards have been muggle born."

"I am not jealous of any filthy Mudblood."

"You keep telling yourself that." Hermione turned her back to him. This was impossible. The more time she was spending with him, the more she hated him. Oh, how she would love to punch him in the face right now. How satisfying would that be…

"You know I'm a person too, right?" Hermione asked after a prolonged silence. She didn't turn to look at him.

"Hardly," he answered.

"You realise how dark the world would be if it was run by your definition of a person right? How much torture and death there would be? Do you really want that? Could you actually live in a world like that?"

Malfoy didn't answer. Hermione thought she saw something in his eyes. Something that suggested that no, no he really couldn't live like that. And then it was gone, and he was back to glaring at her.


	7. Chapter 7

**7**

The following day passed slowly, with Hermione dreaded the detention to come that evening. She just wasn't up for it. It was tiring trying to be nice to somebody who didn't want it. Draco Malfoy just wanted to hate her, and Hermione knew there was nothing she could ever say or do that could change that. It was how he was raised more than anything. In his eyes, Muggle-born's didn't deserve the time of day. She was a waste of space, and that would never change.

As the imminent detention drew closer, Hermione decided that she was going to call off the bet. She would face whatever consequences Lavender chose to throw at her; even embarrassing herself in front of Snape was better than _this._

Hermione had no choice but to continue the rest of the detentions but, after that, she could go back to spending as little time with Draco Malfoy as humanely possibly. Just how it should be.

McGonagall greeted her with a brief nod as Hermione entered her office. Surprisingly, Malfoy was already there, looking fed up as usual.

"I'm afraid you've got your work cut out for you this evening," the Professor told them. "Peeves decided to have a hand at redecorating."

Redecorating was right. The poltergeist had drawn childlike pictures all over the walls of the trophy room in brightly coloured crayons.

"Why can't he just move furniture around like a proper poltergeist?" Hermione sighed. This could take all night. Every inch of the wall was covered. Hermione looked up and, yup, the ceiling even had doodles across it. With magic, this would be a doddle, but then, with magic, it wouldn't be a punishment, would it?

"Better get cracking, looks like you've got a lot to do tonight, Granger."

"So you're not helping then?"

"And steal the load from you? I wouldn't be so selfish."

"You know, some people _like_ helping, Malfoy."

"I can't imagine why." He sat down and pulled out a book from his bag. Seeing him reading was a surprise to Hermione, especially as it wasn't a book on dark magic.

"I see you came prepared."

"Well, I wouldn't want to get so bored that I have to help again."

"Lord forbids," Hermione agreed sarcastically. She got to work on the drawings, scrubbing at the crayon with all her strength. It wasn't budging easily.

"Besides," Malfoy said. "I think the room looks better with these drawings." He nodded his head towards one to his right without looking up from his book. Hermione rolled her eyes as she spotted the picture he was referring to; a doodle of Harry and Ron holding hands with a love heart hanging dangerously over their heads. Their entwined hands swung back and forth, and they made kissing noises at one another. Magical drawings were the worst…

"So, when are the happy couple going to go public?"

"Oh, grow up, Malfoy,' Hermione said, returning her attention to the picture of Dumbledore she was scrubbing at, who was now trying to curse the picture beside of him: Voldemort.

"Touché Granger; does it upset you that your boyfriend prefers Potter to you?"

"Ron is not my boyfriend," she said dryly. "Nor," she continued, "is he in a gay relationship with Harry."

"Debatable," Malfoy replied. Rolling her eyes again, Hermione deemed the whole conversation far too childish to reply to.

For a while she worked in silence, trying her best to ignore Malfoy and that damn book. It was one of her favourites. Why was _he_ reading it? And why did it look like he was enjoying it?

"I didn't take you to be a reader," she commented, moving her attention to Voldemort who attempted to use the killing curse on her.

"I've got to pass my time somehow," he said, shrugging. "My family does own a library worth of books. I was raised and educated well, despite what you might think, Mudblood."

Silence fell again. Hermione was making slow work of the drawings on the walls. There was no way she would get it done before detention was up. To stop McGonagall from being suspicious, she was probably going to have to stay late. Fabulous.

"I think that one's meant to be you," Malfoy spoke up after a while, startling Hermione who had been about to speak herself. She turned to face the blonde, her eyes falling on the doodle of a girl being chased by a ghost.

"What makes you say that?" she challenged. To Hermione, the girl simply looked like a stick figure with a triangle skirt.

"The hair's hideously bushy," Malfoy said idly.

"I see," she mumbled, subconsciously bringing her hand to her hair, trying to flatten it out. Ginny hadn't had time to work her magic on it today and Hermione hadn't a clue where to even start.

"Back in jeans as well, I see. Your little makeover yesterday not have the desired effect?"

Hermione ignored him. "Oh look, there's you." She pointed to a picture of a boy flagged by two, much larger, ape-like-boys. A group of girls stood a short distance away, pointing and giggling.

It was those bloody fangirls again. Hermione hated that Malfoy somehow managed to score a gaggle of fangirls despite being the biggest arsehole around.

"So it is." Malfoy smirked.

"How can you be so pleased by this reputation you have?" Hermione tore her eyes away from the stick Malfoy and onto the real one. Up close like this, how she'd never been before, she could see how handsome he really was. It was sickening to know that someone so vile could be blessed with such looks. If only his outside reflected his inside.

"Not everyone's a virgin like you Granger," Malfoy said, shrugging as if that answered her question.

"I – ho – " Face flushing, Hermione closed her mouth quickly, her cheeks reddening as she lowered her gaze to the floor. She was sixteen; it hardly mattered whether she was a virgin or not, but the way Malfoy said it made it sound as if it were the most embarrassing thing on the planet.

"I knew it!" She could hear the smirk in his voice, but she refused to look up and meet his gaze. "So Weasel or Potter hasn't nailed you yet. I didn't think they were man enough. Surprised about Krum, though, thought he might have had a go." Her face grew even redder, but this time from anger. Krum had wanted to have sex on the night of the Yule Ball, but Hermione hadn't been ready, and he had respected her enough not to push it further.

"What the hell have you and your pathetic friends been spreading about me?" A mental image of Malfoy and his friends laughing about her sex life flashed across her mind.

"Relax Granger; I told Zabini right from the beginning that neither Potter or Weasel had the balls to try. He was certain that the three of you were screwing."

"Is that what you do in your free time?" Hermione demanded angrily. "Discuss over people's personal lives?"

"Sometimes." He shrugged. "Though I much prefer acting out my own personal life." He winked, and Hermione turned away in a mixture of embarrassment and disgust. She was _definitely_ ending this stupid bet. No way in hell was she spending another second trying to find the human in Draco Malfoy. Quite simply, there wasn't one.


	8. Chapter 8

**8**

It was after hours. The candles cast ominous ever-moving flecks across the stone walls as Hermione hurried down the deserted corridor, her heels clicking. It was stupid that she was out this late, no doubt Filch or that damn cat of his would catch her. She had had a thought, though, and Hermione had been unable to let it go, which, in turn, had led her to sneak out of the Gryffindor common room and head to the library. Why oh why hadn't she asked Harry to borrow his invisibility cloak? She felt so exposed. It was horrible breaking the rules alone.

Hermione shivered in her pyjamas. Had she taken a wrong turning? She was sure she should have reached the library by now. Maybe she should just give up? She could hardly remember what that nagging thought had been any more, and she felt so uncomfortable wandering alone where any Professor could walk by and give her another weeks worth of detentions.

She rounded another deserted corridor guarded by suits of armour and halted suddenly. A sudden sensation of being watched overcame her. Glancing over her shoulder, she expected to see Mrs Norris, but the cat was nowhere in sight. Hermione was alone. Rubbing her goosebump-covered arms, Hermione started walking down the corridor again, her pace picking up. She swore the helmets twisted as the suits of armour watched her.

A noise sounded behind her, and Hermione jumped. Instead of turning around to check whether the cost was clear, Hermione took off in a sprint… and collided into the chest of Draco Malfoy.

"Fancy seeing you here, Granger. Didn't expect you out after curfew."

"L…Library," she gasped, taking a half step back but not leaving his personal bubble. During the past few days of their detentions, Hermione felt as if she had started to discover a new side to Draco Malfoy, one that was buried deep, but that _did_ exist. It had been enough to make her change her mind about cancelling the bet. Cancelling would have been weak of her anyway. Hermione didn't like appearing weak. It may be slow work, but she felt as if they had made headway. After Peeve's redecorating, Malfoy had started to talk a little more each night. He hadn't called her Mudblood again yet.

"Breaking the rules for a book? Just like you, Granger." He smirked at her, and Hermione found herself involuntarily shuddering. His smile, when not cruel, was just so… _wow_.

"And why are you breaking curfew?" Hermione asked boldly.

"I was looking for somebody," he said, taking a half step closer and closing the small gap she had created. "You'll do." Hermione realised then where they were. They stood next to Malfoy's favourite tapestry, the one she had seen countless of girls creeping out of. She gulped.

"M-me?"

" _You_ , Granger." His cold hand found the bare flesh of her arm, but she shivered for a whole different reason. He trailed one finger up her arm, and Hermione's eyes half closed. This was so wrong. So very, _very_ wrong. So why did it feel so right?

Tantalisingly slowly, Draco moved his face to her hair, his warm breath tickling her ear. He took another step, forcing Hermione backwards until she felt the cold wall against her flesh.

"Cute pyjama's," he whispered in her ear, biting the lobe. Hermione couldn't help the moan that escaped her lips. She felt rather than saw the smirk he gave her.

His hand on her arm moved, travelling upwards, onto her shoulder where the camisole strap had already flopped down. There were no other straps – she wasn't wearing a bra. "Nice," he whispered, kissing her bare shoulder. "I've never wanted something I couldn't have before. It's quite exciting."

"Who said you can't have me?" Hermione asked quietly, her voice timid and shaking. That was obviously the right thing to say. Pinning her arms back, Draco kissed her hard on the lips. His body crushed against hers and Hermione could feel every part of him. His erection pressed into her leg caused a throbbing in her lower stomach she had never experienced before. She liked it.

She kissed him back, her tongue trailing his lower lip as her confidence grew. She moaned against his mouth as his hand cupped her breast, massaging it gently in rhythm with his lips.

In a flurry of movement, Draco's trousers were unbuttoned, and Hermione's legs were coiling around his waist.

"Hermione," he whispered in her ear, kissing the nape of her neck. "Hermione…"

"Hermione!" Hermione's eyes snapped open, and she shot up so quickly that when her head collided with something hard it made her see stars.

"Bloody hell! Ouch!" Ginny Weasley was rubbing her forehead, a sour look on her face. "I know I ruined a good dream and all, but was the headbutt really necessary?"

"Sorry… I…" Hermione cut off, her cheeks growing red as she realised what Ginny had said. "Was I…?" she couldn't bring herself to say it.

Moving her hand away from her head, Ginny smiled. "Oh, Draco… Oh… Ooh Draco," she mimicked playfully. "You're lucky the common room is empty; that's all I've got to say!"

"Oh my God," Hermione said, cupping her face in her hands. What was this bloody bet doing to her? Was she having sex dreams with Draco Malfoy now? _Seriously_? This wasn't right; she didn't even fancy him for Merlin's sake! She couldn't… could she? A few days of new perspective wasn't enough to undo years worth of hatred. Maybe she had started to see a slightly, not kinder exactly, but less cruel side to Malfoy buried deep within him, but that wasn't enough to stir any feelings. It couldn't be… No, it had to be that he had been on her mind so much recently because of the bet. There was no other reason than that. She had drifted off to sleep while mentally thinking up new ways to appeal to him and her subconscious had worked with that and gone wild. _Bad_ _subconscious!_

That had to be it. There was no way she was already in too deep. Nah-uh. No way. Hermione couldn't help but think she was screwed…


	9. Chapter 9

**9**

That bloody dream just wouldn't leave her mind. It kept Hermione up most of the night and then tormented her through the following days worth of lessons. She was exhausted by the time detention rolled around that night. Their final one. One last chance for Hermione to be able to spend some time alone with Malfoy before reality set back in and they went back to hating one another.

Except going back to hating one another wasn't part of the plan. At least, not if Hermione could help it. They were almost into week two of her one-month time limit and other than a few brief conversations where he hadn't called her Mudblood; she had not made much headway. So why the dirty dream…?

Malfoy was already waiting when she reached McGonagall's office. He didn't look at Hermione as she came to a halt beside of him.

"The trophy room is looking wonderful," McGonagall told them. "Well done. For your final night of detention, I have something slightly different planned. Professor Snape informs me he is running out of Dittany. A small batch of it grows deep within the Forbidden Forest. Accompanied by Hagrid, I want the pair of you to go in search of it." Malfoy shivered a bit. No doubt he remembered his first year when a similar detention occurred. Hermione had to admit, detention in the forbidden forest seemed like an odd choice. Wasn't it forbidden?! Not that that had stopped Hermione entering it on multiple occasions with Harry and Ron.

"Ah, there yeh both are," Hagrid said as the pair approached him by the forest edge. Fang sat by his feet, panting happily. "Yeh okay, Hermione?" Hagrid didn't acknowledge Malfoy.

"I'm fine, thank you, Hagrid." She smiled warmly.

"Good good. Righ' so I assume yeh both know what the night's task is? We'll be lookin' for these plants as a group. Stick with me an Fang an' you'll be fine. Dangerous times to be enterin' the forest." Hermione smiled as she thought of Grawp.

For a while Hermione stuck close, chatting to Hagrid as the pair of them searched the plants that grew around their feet. Hermione couldn't help her gaze being drawn to Malfoy occasionally, watching him as he worked silently, a sullen expression on his face.

"That looks like it could be something," Hermione said to Hagrid, pointing to a spot just behind Malfoy. "I'll go check it out." She hadn't seen anything, but if she didn't speak to Malfoy soon, she would lose her chance.

"Last night of slave labour then." It was Malfoy who spoke first, before Hermione could even figure out what to say.

"Yeah," she agreed. If only they had another week… How an earth was she supposed to entice Malfoy when they went back to normal?

"Don't sound too pleased, Granger," he said sarcastically. Him saying Granger made her heart flutter and her cheeks flush. She forced the dream away again, desperate to hide all evidence.

Although the confidence wasn't behind her words, Hermione teased: "don't say you haven't had fun?"

"Fun?!" Malfoy looked disgusted. "I've been forced to spend a week of slave labour with _you_." While his tone wasn't particularly nice, at least he didn't call her a Mudblood. Yet. The night wasn't over.

"You seemed like you were enjoying yourself." Hermione shrugged half-heartedly. It wasn't true, of course. But while he hadn't looked like he was enjoying himself, he also hadn't seemed to hate the experience. "We've talked more these last few days than we have in six years."

"Don't get used to it. We're not friends, Granger."

"Thank God for that."

"Merlin, you're such a Mudblood." And there it was. It didn't even seem as if he'd intended it rudely. It was almost like he'd used it in the way a friend would call another friend an idiot. He had simply been calling her out on her Muggle expression. The word hung in the air, though, and neither of them made eye contact.

Hermione moved away from Malfoy, embarrassed that her eyes had started to sting. Malfoy using that word didn't bother her anymore. He had been calling her a Mudblood for six years. So why were her eyes tearing up now?

"You alright Hermione?" Hagrid called over, though he couldn't see her tears.

"Fine, yeah," she called back, glad that her voice didn't break. She saw Malfoy watching her and quickly lowered her gaze again.

For a few minutes more they searched in silence. Finally, Malfoy casually walked over to her.

"Hand," he hissed. Hermione looked up, startled.

"Huh?"

"Hand," he repeated impatiently. When Hermione cautiously held out her hand, hoping that Malfoy wouldn't dare try to curse her in front of Hagrid, he shoved a few leaves into her open palm.

"These are the Dittany leaves," Hermione said, staring at them blankly. Shouldn't Malfoy give them to Hagrid, not her?

"No shit, really? Look, go give them to that halfwit so we can go back inside, okay?"

"Don't be rude about Hagrid!" Hermione levelled her cold gaze to him. "And why don't _you_ give him them?" She was suspicious; there had to be some diabolic plan right? While the one to find the plants didn't get a prize or anything, it seemed odd that Malfoy didn't want to claim the credit. Hermione stared at him hard. He didn't blink, only crossed his arms across his chest impatiently.

Was this his way of _apologising?_ Sorry would have been nicer, but Hermione very much doubted Draco Malfoy had ever uttered that word in his life. If this were all she was going to get, then it would have to do. It was certainly better than nothing; that was for sure. Unexpected, too.

"Hagrid," Hermione called. "I've found it!"


	10. Chapter 10

**10**

With detention over, Hermione was at a loss to what she could do now. She was entering her second week into the bet, leaving her with just twenty-three days left to achieve the impossible.

Since their Friday night in the forest, Hermione and Malfoy hadn't spoken. It had been an entire weekend now, and she had barely caught more than a glimpse of him. She also hadn't had another dream about him, which was a huge relief. Yes, the bet required her to get Draco Malfoy to confess his love for her, but that didn't mean Hermione had to reciprocate his feelings. She certainly didn't want to, despite her brains conflicting messages recently. Even if it meant she failed, maybe having a break away from the Slytherin was a good thing?

Then again, Hermione hated failing.

"So how's it going?" Lavender asked, brushing her long hair as they got ready for bed on Sunday night. Hermione didn't answer. "That well, huh?"

"It's going okay," Hermione said, irritated. Lavender had been asking for updates almost every day, and it was becoming tiring.

"Of course it is," came the patronising response.

"I dunno," Parvati said slowly. "I saw him nod to her as he passed her the other day." Yes, that _had_ happened, hadn't it? It had only been a small thing, but Malfoy acknowledging her in the hallway had never happened before unless it was to hurl insults at her and her friends.

"Oh…" Lavender frowned, almost as if she were worried. "Well, that hardly means anything!"

Lavender's dismay worked at brightening Hermione's mood, and she fell asleep thinking positive thoughts for the next day.

The morning began with double potions. Hermione briefly wondered whether she would be paired with Malfoy again but was quickly disappointed when Snape partnered her up with a Slytherin named Heather Cluzor.

Hermione hadn't spent a lot of time in the company of Heather, and for good reason. Heather was a true Slytherin in nature. And a _dumb_ one at that.

"Great, stuck with a filthy Mudblood for two hours," Heather grumbled under her breath as Hermione took a seat beside the bleached-blonde girl.

"Could be worse Cluzor," Malfoy said as he passed by to pair with his partner – Harry. "At least you'll pass for once." Hermione frowned at the comment. Had that been a compliment? Not a very good one, mind.

"He was insulting me, not complimenting you, bitch," Heather said under her breath. Intellect-wise, Heather was way down there at the bottom, but, annoyingly, she was very good at people. She always seemed to know what people were thinking and, with Hermione struggling to gain Malfoy's attention at every given minute, that was an extremely bad thing.

Heather, of course, did little to help Hermione with their potion which suited Hermione just fine. She worked in silence, keeping her head down. She didn't want to make Heather any more suspicious than she already was. She only looked up as she happened to overhear Harry.

"Shut it, Malfoy."

"Potter," Snape warned coldly, moving over to the pair. "Ten points from Gryffindor. Speak to your partner like that again, and I'll make it fifty."

Hermione stared at the pair, wondering what it was Malfoy had said. The Slytherin seem to feel her gaze and sent her a wicked smirk, making sure that Harry saw. Harry's cheeks flared bright red, and he clenched his fists, but otherwise he didn't react. He wasn't going to let Draco Malfoy be the reason he lost sixty points for Gryffindor.

Hermione looked away guiltily. She was betraying her friends with this bet. She _had_ to tell them. She was sure they would never understand or forgive her should she win without telling them what was going on. However, telling them almost felt worse. Hermione couldn't imagine their reactions to the news. She knew it wouldn't be good, though. Ron, especially, would take it hard. Then again, it wasn't as if she wanted to be with Malfoy. She just wanted to win this bet and humiliate Lavender. And Malfoy.

Hermione dropped her phial. It smashed into a thousand tiny shards on the floor, sparkling in the low light of the room. Everyone stopped what they were doing to stare, but Hermione hardly noticed.

It had never occurred to her before that if she won the stupid bet - if Malfoy fell in love with her - then she would end up humiliating him as well. Only a week ago that wouldn't have been such a bad thing, but now… It had only been a week. Only _one_ single week. One week shouldn't have been enough to undo years of hatred, and it wasn't, not really, but… well, it _had_ been enough to change her perspective on him, just a little. Draco Malfoy would never be nice exactly, but he had been nic _er_ to her.

Snape was yelling at her, but Hermione hardly noticed. Her gaze found Malfoy and he held her eye contact, his expression impossible to read. He looked amused, but there was something else there too.

"Granger!"

"Sorry!" Hermione snapped her gaze away from Malfoy as reality snatched her back. She shifted her feet and felt shards of glass crunch under shoe. Embarrassed, she mumbled an apology.

The rest of Potions dragged. As class ended, Hermione ducked out without waiting for her friends, desperate to avoid Malfoy. She hid in the shadows as he passed, Heather by his side.

"She kept staring at you," Heather was telling him, disgust coating her voice.

"She was probably staring at Potter. Everyone knows she has a thing for him. 'Chosen one' and all that bull." They were out of earshot before Heather responded.

"Hermione! There you are!" Ron frowned as he walked over, Harry by his side. "What did Cluzor say to you?"

"Huh?" Hermione was distracted. She tried to force herself to listen to her friend.

"You never break anything. It must have been bad." He sounded angry. Although unwarranted, it was nice to know he cared so much.

"She didn't really say anything," Hermione said. "I was just distracted. It was completely my fault. Anyway – " she changed the subject quickly. "I'm more interested in what Malfoy said to Harry."

"He had a lot to say about you," Harry said, uncomfortably. He wasn't meeting her eyes.

"Like what?"

"Nothing I'd like to repeat. Don't worry; I told him where to go." Hermione frowned. Just _what_ had Malfoy been saying about her?


	11. Chapter 11

**11**

Eyes brimming with tears, Hermione stroked Pig's feathers. The little owl chirped happily, unaware that anything was up. It had been stupid really, her argument with Ron. They argued about stupid things. They always had. Ginny had once suggested it was because they liked one another. At the time, Hermione had laughed in her face. Later, though, she had wondered whether it was true. She had little doubt that Ron liked her, possibly always had, but Hermione had never thought her own feelings extended friendship. Not until Ginny had suggested it, anyway. True to her nature, she had been working on a pros and cons list whether when the bet had been made.

Since making the bet with Lavender, though, Hermione had started to realise that her feelings towards Ron _were_ just platonic after all. Her dream about Draco had well and truly proven that to her. You didn't have _those_ kind of dreams about someone if you were in love with someone else. Hermione had _never_ dreamt of Ron in that way. Ultimately, when it came down to it, she couldn't even imagine kissing him. The idea of it felt… wrong. Like kissing a brother. She wondered why it had taken her so long to realise this and why, of all people, it was Draco Malfoy who was making her see the truth now.

Hermione was startled out of her own world as the door to the Owlery opened, and when she jumped, she scared Pig, who flew away with a disgruntled hoot.

Draco Malfoy walked in, a letter in hand. He froze like a deer in headlights as he caught sight of Hermione sitting alone, teary eyed.

Embarrassed, Hermione jumped to her feet, abruptly turning her back to him. She stared at the wall, wringing her hands together as she decided what to do. This was all she needed, for Malfoy to see her crying! He would never let it go.

Malfoy didn't say anything, and his silence was so surprising that Hermione dared to look back at him. He was in the same position; the same startled deer look on his face.

Hermione didn't know what was going on, but if Malfoy wasn't going to move then she would just have to. She couldn't very well stay in the same room as him right now. For one, it would ruin any and all progress she might hope to make towards this ridiculous bet. Other than that, she just wasn't in the mood for his insults right now. Malfoy might not have made a sound yet, but he wouldn't stay quiet for long. Hermione didn't want to hear whatever horrible things he had to say about her now.

"The Owlery is all yours," she said. She had just gotten down the first three steps when Malfoy spoke.

"Granger." Hermione stopped walking but didn't turn around. Screw the bet right now. She was feeling vulnerable; no doubt Malfoy was about to say some snide comments and make her feel all the worse. She should keep walking. She should get as far away as possible as quickly as possible. But she didn't move, and Malfoy didn't speak. They stood, a few steps between them, back to back in silence for an awkward length of time.

Eventually, Hermione resumed walking, and Malfoy didn't stop her. When she was gone, he leant against the wall and sighed. What had that been about? What the _hell_? He had seen her, eyes red and puffy, yet instead of laughing and throwing the first insult that popped in his head, he had frozen. He hadn't known what to say or do, how to act.

Granger had always been a frustrating presence in his life when, in actuality, she shouldn't have even been important enough for him to spare a second's thought over. Somehow, though, even from the very beginning he had thrived from making her mad. Torment the Mudblood: it had been a game. Over time, it had become more than that. It had become an obsession. He _had_ to hurt her, to anger her. Getting her riled up gave his day purpose. Though he'd known his obsession was a little much, he had thought it was because he hated her. She was a know-it-all with dirty blood who was friends with Potter – what wasn't to hate?

Recently, since their detentions together perhaps, he had started to accept it was more than that. She was attractive. _He_ found her attractive _._ It made him want to scrub his skin raw. He felt dirty even thinking it. Yet… it was also exciting. Disobeying his father was something he thrived on. Chasing after Granger would be the worst of the worst as far as his father was concerned. Disown-worthy.

It was getting worse, though, his obsession. It was becoming almost disturbing. Just now, as he'd seen the tears in Hermione's eyes, he'd wanted to _comfort_ her. That, or murder whoever had made her cry. Only he was allowed to make her cry, and even now he felt bad doing so.

He had gone out of his way recently to avoid calling her Mudblood, and when he had inevitably slipped up, he had felt terrible. What was going on? Why had his life been turned upside down in a matter of a week? It didn't make any sense.

Granger was like a… wilted rose: she was something beautiful ruined by something as simple as time. Except it wasn't time, but her lack of any magical relatives. It was a shame: had she been pureblood, half-blood even… No, she would have still been friends with _Potter_! Draco couldn't think like this. It was insane. He had to distract himself.

Forcing all images of her red cheeks stained by tears out of his mind, Draco called over his owl and sent his letter to his father. Then he left the Owlery and set about searching for a good distraction. Anyone would do. The first girl he saw.

Typically that was Granger. She hadn't gotten far, and she was still crying. She hadn't seen him, and Malfoy slipped into the shadows before she could. He watched her for a moment, a mixture of feeling he wasn't used to torturing him, and then he slipped away before he could do something he would probably regret.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N:** this chapter is god-awful but I'm too lazy to try and fix it and it sort of serves a purpose so I don't want to delete it. Sorry! Also, I've decided to just go ahead and upload the rest now again mostly due to laziness and also because also because hardly anyone is reading it anyway. Apologies for any bad chapters ahead, like I said, I wrote this quickly when I had some free time. Enjoy anyway :D

 **12**

The next four days passed with little progress. No doubt Hermione would fail the bet (had winning ever really been an option?) but what was she meant to do? She had very little experience when it came to boys as it were, Viktor Krum having been her only other relationship, and it was even worse when the person she was trying to impress had hated her since she was eleven. She was in an impossible situation here, and one she was only in because of how damn stubborn and over achieving she was – a character trait she knew Malfoy hated in her.

Since the Owlery, it was as if Malfoy was avoiding her. Not only had any and all snide comments stopped, but he didn't even make eye contact anymore. Hermione didn't understand it. She thought he thrived on making her miserable, but perhaps he'd even grown bored of it.

"Why an earth did I ever agree to this stupid bet?" Hermione said aloud, momentarily forgetting that she wasn't alone.

"Huh?"

"Nothing Ronald," Hermione said quickly. She still hadn't found the courage to tell Harry and Ron about the bet. She wasn't entirely sure she ever would. "Have you finished your homework yet? I'll look over it for you if you want." Ron's face lit up.

"You're the best!" Ron told her, beaming. Since then night in the Owlery, Ron had apologised, and their friendship was once again on the mend. As Hermione leant over his work to go through it – she could already see that it was abysmal – Ron frowned.

"'Mione," he said. Hermione ignored the annoying nickname and looked up. "You don't think Ginny fancies Malfoy do you?" His freckled face was pale with worry, so much so that Hermione couldn't even laugh at his suggestion. At least he wasn't on to her, though she couldn't help wonder where his suspicions about his sister had come from.

"Of course not!" she laughed. "Why would you think that?"

"Oh… well… Some of the stuff she been saying recently… And I saw her following him the other day; she looked like she was determined to speak to him." Hermione froze; surely Ginny had not blown their cover to the enemy? But why else would Ginny Weasley want to talk to Draco Malfoy, if not to tell him that Hermione had been forced into a bet to win over his heart?

"You've got it all wrong, Ron," Hermione said finally, chewing on her lip and trying to hide her sudden discomfort with the conversation. At least Ron wasn't always the sharpest tool in the shed. Hermione doubted she had to worry about him figuring anything out.

"Are you sure?" Ron pressed, clenching his fists. "Dean I could just about accept, but if she dates that son-of-a-bitch Malfoy – !"

"Honestly, Ronald, you're far too protective of Ginny." Hermione could barely make eye contact. If only Ron knew the truth. Hermione wondered if _that_ fight would be one their friendship could recover from.

"She's my only sister," Ron said lamely, his cheeks a little red. Hermione knew he meant well, but she wished he would stay out of it. Although, at least his little insecurity had led to her discovered something Ginny may have otherwise not admitted. It seemed Ginny was up to something.

They went back to silence, Hermione using Ron's essay to try and keep her mind occupied. It wasn't working. The poorly worded essay was doing little to quell thoughts of Malfoy stirring in her mind. What if he knew about the bet now? What if Ginny _had_ told him?

"'Ron, this is abysmal!" Hermione announced finally. "I've edited the spelling mistakes and reworded some parts for you; also I've added some tips to help with the rewrite."

"Rewrite?" Ron blinked in horror.

"Yes, rewrite. You'll fail horribly if you hand that in. Even Harry did a better job."

"You'll help right?" Ron asked, his eyes full of desperation. Hermione couldn't stay here a minute longer. She needed fresh air. She needed to run away from the thoughts in her mind.

"I have somewhere to be," she said, shrugging. "Here. Here's mine. _Don't. Copy. It._ "

"Where are you going?" he sounded suspicious. Hermione wondered when he had stopped trusting her. Probably when she had started dressing and acting like a crazy person. Hermione already suspected that Ron and Harry thought she had a secret boyfriend. It wouldn't surprise her if that had been what had started their stupid argument the other day.

"Nowhere you need to know about." It was probably better if he did believe she had a secret boyfriend. She may have deliberated telling Ron and Harry the truth, but ultimately she knew she could never bring herself actually to do so.

Hermione was halfway to the library when she changed her mind. For some reason, she felt like going to the trophy room. Perhaps a room where she had spent so much time with Malfoy would inspire her. Heaven knows she didn't have any other ideas. Hermione had to take whatever she could get right now.

 _If only I could somehow get us both into detention again,_ she mused thoughtfully. It was the only way she could realistically see herself spending any alone time with Malfoy. However, even Malfoy would get suspicious if they 'somehow' landed in detention together again.

Turning a corner she arrived at the trophy room, glancing in first to check if it were empty. It wasn't.

"Malfoy?" Hermione blinked in surprise. Embarrassed, she clamped a hand over her mouth, but the damage was already done. Draco Malfoy turned around, a surprised look on his pale face.

 _Thank God he's alone…_

"Well well, if it isn't Granger," Malfoy drawled. The look he gave her was one of annoyance as if she had been the very person he had been hiding from. Then again, this was Malfoy: he was always annoyed to see her.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, turning on the Prefect voice she usually reserved for annoying first and second years, while simultaneously forgetting that Malfoy, too, was a Prefect.

"I could ask you the same question." With a tilt of his head, Malfoy moved his gaze away from Hermione and back to the trophies. It was odd standing in a room with Draco Malfoy without him trying to either curse her or make her cry. It felt almost unnatural. While it wasn't that she liked the alternative, Hermione wasn't sure about how she felt about this either.

"I… heard voices," she lied. "I think it was around the corner, but I decided to check in here first."

"So? It's a free country, right? Why shouldn't people be talking?"

"It's past curfew."

"So it is." Malfoy studied his nails. An awkward air hung between them that neither quite wanted to understand. Eventually, Hermione spoke up, a little uncomfortably:

"Well, if it's only you, I guess I'll leave." She hesitated at the door. Did she want him to ask her to stay? Of course not. Not that he ever would, anyway.

"I see you're back in jeans again Granger. Shame," he said before she could leave. Surprised by his comment, Hermione glanced down. Could it be that the outfits Ginny had been picking out for her had made an impression after all? The fact that Malfoy noticed her outfits suggested that yes, yes they did. "You looked better showing some leg. Well, as good as someone like you can manage to look."

Hermione's cheeks flushed, but she didn't speak. She didn't know what to say. That had been… well, it had been a compliment. A bad one, admittedly, but a compliment none the less.

"Weren't you leaving?" Malfoy asked finally, crossing his arms over his chest. "Don't let me stop you."

"Expecting someone are you?" For some reason, the idea of Malfoy meeting a girl in the trophy room stung her.

"That's right Granger," Malfoy said finally. "I'd leave now before she gets here… unless you'd like to watch?" Hermione shook her head in disgust and turned on her heel. She was halfway back to the Gryffindor common room when it occurred to her that he had clearly been lying. But if Draco Malfoy wasn't meeting a girl in the trophy room then what had he been doing in there? Alone no less.


	13. Chapter 13

**13**

Hermione was making quite the habit of showing up to Transfigurations early. It probably made her look over eager, but, like the library at once been, the Transfigurations classroom was becoming a place of sanctuary for her. Nobody else wanted to show up to class early, which made the room ideal. It was easy to think, undisturbed, in the empty classroom. Well, _usually_ it was:

Attempting to expand her short list (Ways to win over Malfoy) Hermione shrank down in her chair as she heard Draco Malfoy's voice as he approached the classroom. What was he doing? There was still at least ten minutes until class started.

When she heard another voice, Hermione groaned; he wasn't alone.

"She's a blood traitor, Temple. Get your head out of your arse."

"Hot though right?" Hermione recognised Slade Temple's arrogant voice. As Slytherin's went, Slade wasn't so bad. He had never been outwardly rude to her. Like Malfoy, he was a bit of a 'ladies man,' flitting between girls' like nobodies business.

"The Weaselette _is_ pretty hot." The third voice belonged to Blaise Zabini. It was pretty disgusting how they seemed to talk about girls'. Hermione wished she were brave enough to give them a piece of her mind. "I think Draco here prefers a bit of dirty blood, though," Blaise joked. Hermione dropped her quill.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Malfoy growled, a threat in his voice that would have made most others back away. Not Blaise though.

"You and Granger seem a bit chummy recently."

Hermione's cheeks burnt. They didn't know she was in here, who knew what she was about to overhear?!

"Want to say that again?"

"Oh sod off, I'm not afraid of you, Draco."

"Yeah?" It sounded as if Malfoy was squaring up to Blaise, which would have been hilarious to watch seeing as Blaise was so much taller than the Slytherin Prince. More muscular too. Blaise was no Crabbe or Goyle, but he wasn't little, that was for sure. After Malfoy, he was probably the next favourite Slytherin boy amongst the girls' of Hogwarts.

"You know," Slade said thoughtfully, apparently unconcerned by the fight for dominance between his two friends. "If you don't want Granger, I might take a stab. She's been looking mighty fine rec – " There was a loud thud, followed by a groan.

"Whoa! What the hell, man?!"

"Let him go, Draco," Blaise sounded mildly amused. Had Draco just slammed Slade against the wall for his comment about her? That was… unexpected.

Hermione wished she could slip out of the classroom. She wasn't meant to be overhearing any of this. When they discovered she was in the room, things wouldn't go well. The last thing Hermione needed right now was for Malfoy to get pissed off at her for eavesdropping.

"Seriously man, you have issues," Slade grumbled, apparently having been released. Malfoy grabbing him like that… had that been because Slade had struck a nerve? Did Malfoy, dare she even think it, _like_ her? Had he been jealous of the thought of Slade and her? There was one way to find out for certain; Hermione just wasn't sure if she were brave enough. She was halfway through the bet already, though, and running out of options. If Hermione stood any chance of winning, then she had to pull out all of the stops. If that meant she had to flirt with Slade Temple then perhaps she should bite the bullet and go for it. What other choice did she have?

"Just so we're clear, where do we stand with Granger?" Slade asked, his tone lightening dramatically. "Because, y'know, she has some damn fine legs and all and I wouldn't mind a stab at her."

"Do whatever the fuck you want."

Face burning; Hermione just managed to lean over her textbook and pretend to be engrossed before the trio entered the classroom. She sensed rather than saw Malfoy stop dead in his tracks. She knew what he was thinking: 'how much did she hear?'

"Hey, Granger! We were just talking about you!" Slade swandered over, smiling brightly.

"Oh? Really?" Hermione hoped the crack in her voice wasn't noticeable to anyone but her. "Insults as usual?" She tried to sound flippant like she hadn't heard a word and didn't really care either way.

"Of course not!" He really was chirpy. Slade had no place being in Slytherin; he seemed much more like a Hufflepuff. "I was just wondering how you'd feel about a date?"

"A date?" Hermione tried to keep her face as blank as possible. She couldn't stop the light blush on her cheeks. Slade took her embarrassment as an indication that she liked him when really she was _just_ embarrassed. Being flirted with was not something Hermione had much experience with. She was an awkward person as it was.

"Yeah. You know, thought we could have a picnic by the lake. Get to know one another. Nice top, by the way, looks pretty on you."

"Thanks?"

"So what do you think? I'm a nice guy really, behind my Slytherin façade," here he winked. "Give me a chance? Don't break my heart, Granger." He looked almost earnest, though Hermione knew he had a bit of a reputation that she wasn't sure she wanted to associate herself with. One look at Malfoy, though, and Hermione's mind was made up.

Malfoy was watching the exchange with a smug little smile on his face, as if he was certain Slade was about to be shot down. He also seemed to be enjoying how uncomfortable she appeared.

Forcing a smile on her face, Hermione nodded brightly.

"Sure, why not?"

"Really?" Even Slade seemed surprised. Blaise and Malfoy looked speechless.

"Yes really. Let's do it." She blushed at her wording and quickly amended: "Let's have a date."

 _Oh boy_ , thought Hermione as Slade beamed ear to ear. What an earth had she just gotten herself into? The look on Malfoy's face made it almost worth it, though… almost.


	14. Chapter 14

**14**

"You what?!" Ron spat, spraying the dinner table with half of the contents of his mouth. Hermione wrinkled her nose in disgust. She had known her hot-headed friend wouldn't take the news well, but it was worse than she had expected. Ron almost looked as if steam would start shooting out of his ears at any given moment.

"A date, Ronald," she repeated patiently. "With Slade Temple."

"But why?"

"Because he asked me." Ron didn't seem to think that was a very good reason. He spluttered in protest, unable to form a coherent sentence.

"You'll be careful right?" Harry asked, the calmer of the pair. Whilst obviously displeased with the situation, Harry trusted his friend enough to make her own mistakes. And it was a mistake, of course it was, but it was one Hermione was willing to make. She didn't have much choice really. Time was running short, and she still hadn't made any substantial headway with Malfoy.

"Of course," Hermione said, hoping to God that he meant it as she was taking it and _not_ the _other_ kind of careful.

"I don't understand what's gotten into you," Ron continued to rant, ignoring the eye signals Harry was desperately trying to give his friend.

"I'm just… trying to live, Ronald. I'm having fun. Maybe you should try it."

Although Hermione understood why her friends were concerned, she also wished they would leave her to it. If Ron said much more, he would crack the little resolve she had, and Hermione wouldn't be able to go through with it at all. She stood up; she had to get away before he succeeded in talking her out of it. It was almost time to meet Slade anyway.

As she walked, Hermione's heart was thudding frantically in her throat. What was she doing? She couldn't go through with this. She didn't even _like_ Slade Temple. What was she trying to prove? Just as Hermione was about to turn on her heel and flee to the Gryffindor common room, she bumped into Draco Malfoy.

"Interesting game you're playing, Granger."

"Excuse me?" Her voice shook slightly, and Malfoy smirked as he caught it.

"Slade Temple? Really?"

"What's it to you who I date?" Crossing her arms over her chest, Hermione frowned at Malfoy, feeling her resolve building. She couldn't back out, not now that she had caught Malfoy's attention so clearly.

"He's a Slytherin."

"And you have to protect your precious Slytherin's from dirty Mudblood's, is that it?"

"Your words," Malfoy shrugged. Hermione wasn't certain, but for the briefest of moments he had almost seemed uncomfortable. It wasn't the first time Hermione had realised that Malfoy himself hadn't called her Mudblood in over a week.

"If you have a problem with Slade going on a date with me, take it up with him. Otherwise, keep out of it." Hermione made sure to maintain an air of confidence. Malfoy always seemed impressed with her confidence.

"Oh, don't worry, I will." It sounded to Hermione as if Malfoy were saying something without actually _saying_ it. What, though, she had no idea. Before she could work out whether to ask or not, Malfoy turned around and walked away, not sparing Hermione another glance.

Leaning against the wall, Hermione sighed in frustration. Malfoy was so hard to work out! Sometimes she felt as if she were making progress, as if maybe, just maybe, he liked her. Other times, it felt like nothing at all had changed over the last couple of weeks. After all, in the grand scheme of things, two weeks wasn't very long. She was kidding herself if she thought Draco Malfoy had started to like her in such a short amount of time. Then again, not that she wanted to admit it to herself, but… wasn't Hermione starting to like Malfoy? If her feelings could start to change in such a short period then no doubt his could too…

Shaking her head, and with new found confidence, Hermione made her way out onto the grounds. She _would_ have this date with Slade, and it would go damn well. She needed Slade to give a good report back to Malfoy. She needed him to be jealous.

"Granger!" Slade stood up abruptly, smiling brightly at her. He had been sitting down on a picnic blanket by the lakes edge, a basket of food he had no doubt stolen from the kitchen beside him. Hermione wondered where the blanket and basket had come from, or whether lakeside picnic dates were so regular for Slade that he kept them at hand. Either way, it was a nice gesture. Romantic almost. "I thought for sure you'd be a no show."

"Sorry," she apologised. "I didn't mean to be late."

"No worries, no worries! Here, come sit down with me." He extended a hand and, somewhat reluctantly, Hermione took it and allowed him to guide her down to the blanket. "I hope I got the right food; I didn't know what you liked."

Hermione peered into the picnic basket. It all looked wonderful. She couldn't help but feel a little flattered. Nobody, not even Krum, had ever gone to so much effort for her. Sure, Slade had only stolen the food, not prepared it himself, but he had clearly put thought and dedication into the evening. Hermione didn't fail to notice the single red rose poking out of the side of the basket. She smiled lightly.

"It looks fantastic," she said.

The evening went well. They ate, and they talked, and Hermione found herself, rather surprisingly, relaxing into the evening and enjoying herself immensely. Slade was good fun, and he treated her like a human being rather than some low-life muggle born Gryffindor. He didn't seem to care at all that they were in rival houses or that her best friend was Harry Potter. He even surprised Hermione by asking her about her friendship with Harry and Ron, and sounding genuinely interested as she answered.

"How are you in Slytherin?" Hermione asked with a laugh as Slade finished telling her about his summer holiday where he had ended up camping in France with a bunch of muggles.

Slade shrugged innocently. "I guess I have a bad side," he answered after a moment's pause, wiggling his eyebrows playfully. Hermione laughed and gently slapped his shoulder.

"Hey, you're getting cold," Slade noticed. "It's getting late. We should probably head inside." Hermione nodded, a little disappointed. She hadn't expected to enjoy herself so much. She hadn't expected Slade, with the reputation she knew he had, to be such a gentleman.

Slade gathered together his basket and blanket and stood up with Hermione, smiling shyly at her. "So, this was fun huh?"

"Yeah," Hermione said. "I enjoyed it."

"Bet ya didn't expect that," he teased.

"I didn't actually," Hermione answered honestly.

"Wanna do it again?"

Hermione stared at him. With the lake twinkling in the moonlight behind him, she barely wanted to say goodnight now and leave behind the romantic setting, let alone wait for another date. The cold was biting into her, however, and curfew was creeping up on them.

"I do," she answered honestly. Even had she been good at Divinations, the outcome of this evening was not one she could have foreseen. Hermione actually wanted to see Slade Temple again and, as he leant a little closer, she also realised that she wanted the kiss that was about to happen. She didn't resist as his lips brushed against hers, lightly, almost teasingly. Her eyes flickered shut, blocking out the romantic backdrop that had to have at least a little to do with how she was currently feeling.

And when he pulled away, she instantly missed his lips. Draco Malfoy and the bet completely forgotten, Hermione stepped forward and kissed him again, not quite ready to say goodnight to such a lovely evening.


	15. Chapter 15

**15**

"What's this I hear about you cosying up with the _wrong_ Slytherin?" Lavender demanded the next day as Hermione changed into her pyjamas.

"It wasn't intentional," Hermione said, not making eye contact. She didn't know why she felt guilty. It wasn't as if she owed Lavender anything. The only person she was screwing over here was herself.

"How can you accidently go on a date?"

"I was trying to make Malfoy jealous."

Lavender snorted. "You think he likes you enough to be jealous?"

"Actually," Hermione said, starting off confidently but losing her nerve slightly when it came to saying 'yes.' "Possibly."

Lavender narrowed her eyes disbelievingly. "I hope you know you've only got a week and a half left."

"I don't think I want to do this anymore," Hermione admitted. She hadn't really wanted to do it in the first place, but now that she had had such a wonderful evening with Slade, Hermione felt even worse about the stupid bet.

"You've had one date, and suddenly it's curtains close? I don't think so."

"The thing is Lavender; you can't tell me what I can and can't do. We made a bet, and I won't back out of our agreement, but that doesn't mean I have to keep up this stupid charade."

Lavender opened and closed her mouth, staring at Hermione in disbelief. After a moment she shrugged, fixing her expression into one of indifference.

"Well, it's no loss for me."

Without answering, Hermione climbed into her four-poster bed and drew the curtains around it. She heard Lavender huff loudly, but other than that, her roommate said nothing more.

This whole situation was just so messed up. Only a couple of weeks ago, Hermione would never have imagined herself dating a Slytherin, and yet now she was tangled in a mess of two. She didn't know what to do. She felt as if Malfoy was starting to - at least slightly - like her, and she – at least slightly – like him. That was most certainly something she could never have pictured two weeks ago. Hermione didn't like how it made her feel, so uncertain about everything.

And now there was Slade as well. Sure, they had only had one date, but that one date had been amazing. Hermione hadn't expected to enjoy herself at all, yet here she was counting down until she saw him again the next day.

Hermione almost wished she still had her time turner. What she would give just to go back and warn herself not to agree to that stupid bet. How much simpler her life had been before Lavender had ruined it all for her.

With all these conflicting thoughts and worries tumbling around her brain, it was obviously going to be a long night without much sleep. Hermione sighed and rolled onto her side.

It was hard getting up the next day. Hermione felt heavy, like her body had been pumped with lead overnight. She sat up and rolled her shoulder blades, suppressing a yawn.

She had slept terribly, as expected. The few hours of precious sleep she had managed to get had been hijacked by dreams of both Slytherin boys.

In one they had fought over her, with Hermione standing between them – and the hexes they were throwing at one another – screaming for them to stop but never being heard.

In another, they had both rejected her, leaving her standing alone in a darkened void that was swallowing her whole.

Hermione couldn't remember the third, and she wasn't sure she wanted to.

Although they had only been dreams, they had left a heaviness around her heart, completely different to the lead that currently filled her veins, holding her body down with fatigue. It made her feel wary, uncertain. Like perhaps the whole idea was terrible, and she should stick well clear of both Slade _and_ Malfoy. It was the sensible option. Her evening with Slade, though, had been so wonderful that she wasn't sure she wanted to stay away.

No, her best option was to forget all about Draco Malfoy, the stupid bet and her pride, and just focus on seeing how things went with Slade. Sure, that meant at the end of the month that she would have to embarrass herself in front of Professor Snape, but rather that than further embarrass herself in front of Draco Malfoy. And that's what she was doing, embarrassing herself. Her restless night had made her see that. Of course Draco Malfoy didn't like her, she had simply been deluding herself. Slade Temple, though, seemed like he might. Better to chase a possibility over a certain no.

As Hermione went about her morning routine, Lavender and Parvati watched her sceptically, almost disappointedly. Hermione tried not to care about what they thought of her; it wasn't as if the three of them were friends particularly. None of them would probably keep in touch after school ended. If they thought she was 'chickening out' then so what. Hermione was basically guaranteeing that Lavender wouldn't have to make an idiot of herself in front of the entire school, the other girl should have been pleased!

She didn't seem pleased, though, and it unsettled Hermione a little. Why did Lavender care that she was choosing to fail on purpose?

Once dressed, Hermione left the dorm without a word to her roommates. She felt their eyes burn into her back as she left and knew that as soon as the door swung shut behind her, they started gossiping in the fast whispers they excelled at.

 _I don't care,_ Hermione tried to convince herself. _It doesn't matter to me what they think. All that matters is that I don't want to do this anymore. All that matters is I stop trying to mess with people's lives. It's not like I want to be with Draco Malfoy anyway. I'm better off walking away from this ridiculous bet!_

Hermione was having a hard time believing her own words.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N:** Just a heads up, this is the chapter with the close-call rape scene I mentioned.

 **16**

Trying to forget about the battle in her mind, Hermione met Slade as planned by the lake. He was pulling the same lakeside picnic trick, but Hermione didn't mind. Why ruin a good thing? With the setting sun behind him, the whole scene was rather picturesque - Hermione wasn't sure she would ever grow bored of dates like these. Slade himself looked particularly handsome in the orange light that bathed him.

Despite the comfort Hermione felt from the familiarity of the date, something felt different as she sat down next to him, leaving her feeling ill at ease. She put it down to her restless night of conflicting thoughts and tried to think nothing of it, instead smiling brightly at him; it wasn't Slade's fault that she had had such a horrible night.

"You're cold," Slade noted. For stupid vanity reasons that she was embarrassed to admit to, Hermione hadn't brought her cloak out with her and the evening's air had a chilly bite. It wasn't unbearable, and a quick spell could have easily solved the problem, but when Slade scootched closer to her, Hermione was overcome with mild amnesia and suddenly forgot all useful spells. Her stomach tumbled until it felt like a cage of butterflies had been released inside of her. "Much better."

He was sitting so close. Hermione could feel her heart hammering inside of her rib cage. It momentarily stopped beating as Slade's hand came to a rest on the small of her back, his fingers circling the exposed flesh from where her top had ridden up. While she was sure that she did actually like Slade and had certainly enjoyed kissing him the other day, Hermione felt extremely uncomfortable now. He was just a little _too_ close and a little _too_ friendly for a second date. Then again, Hermione didn't have much to compare this with, and she didn't know her date well enough to know whether he was simply an overfriendly guy. Sure, she had _heard_ rumours about him, but that was all hearsay and not solid enough to be reliable.

Although Hermione wanted to remove his hand from her flesh, she reasoned that he wasn't doing any harm, just being affectionate. No doubt Slade wasn't even really thinking about what he was doing. He was probably just acting on impulse. It was kind of nice, come to think of it. Her flesh tingled a little where he touched it.

"How was your day?" Slade murmured, although, unlike last time, he didn't seem as if he was interested in the answer. His eyes were semi-closed and his face was close to her neck; Hermione could feel his warm breath on her.

She sat ridgedly as she answered. "Not bad, thanks. Yours?"

"Mm…" he answered incoherently. Hermione jumped a little as his nose brushed her neck. Slade laughed and withdrew, taking her hand in his. "Relax. Man, you're so tense. I could give you a massage if you want?"

"Um…" Slade was already moving behind of her. His fingers eased across her shoulders, finding the knots in her muscles. He started working them, rolling his thumbs hard against her shoulder blades. Nice as she knew it should feel, Hermione couldn't relax into it. She felt uneasy; she didn't like how touchy-feely Slade was being. She wasn't ready for any of that yet.

Hermione wondered how Slade would act if she ask him to stop. Would he mind?

His nose was back at her neck again, the tip running sensually down her neck as he rubbed her shoulders. Hermione clenched her fists, moving her mouth but not saying any words as she tried to figure out how to ask him to stop.

She shivered as his lips pressed gently against the nape of her neck. Misreading this, encouraged, Slade kissed her again, trailing his lips from her ear to her shoulder. When he reached the straps of her bra and top, he knocked them playfully down and continued to kiss.

"Slade," Hermione croaked out, her voice stilted.

"Mmmm?" He wasn't paying attention. He had stopped massaging her completely now, his hands instead wrapping around her and squeezing her boobs. Hermione squealed and tried to squirm away, but he gripped her tightly, holding her against him. "What's the matter baby?" he whispered in her ear, squeezing her boob again.

"I want to go back inside," Hermione said. Even she could hear how scared she sounded; surely Slade would realise and apologise quickly?

"Awe," he pouted. "Don't be like that. We had fun, didn't we? Last time? I'm just asking for a little more of _my_ kind of fun this time." One of his hands slipped down her top and into her bra. His grip prevented her from squirming.

"Please…" Hermione could feel tears sliding down her cheeks. How could she have read him so wrong? She had thought Slade was a nice guy. She had thought she wanted to go on a second date with him, maybe a third… a fourth…

"Hush now," he said, his breath warm against her neck. "Now I'm gonna release you for a sec so we can face each other. Don't do anything stupid." Although his tone was light, the threat was clear.

Slade gave Hermione's boob another squeeze before releasing her. As soon as his grip was gone, Hermione threw back her elbow, winding him. Scrambling away, she reached for her wand, but before her hand could find it, a hand clasped her ankle, yanking hard enough to send her crashing into her chin. Dazed, Hermione tried to lift herself back up, but Slade was already clambering on top of her, his heavy body pressing her down.

"You won't be needing this," he whispered in her ear and Hermione watched helplessly as he threw away her wand.

"Please stop," she said through her tears. She was the smartest witch of her age, but she couldn't do anything to stop this. If only she had listened to Ron. If only she hadn't been so stubborn and stupid!

Slade yanked her top up, leaving it balled around her neck. With his free hand (the other was occupied with keeping Hermione's hands pinned above her head) he groped at her bra.

"You're a little tease; you know that?" He moved his hand away from her bra and to his belt buckle. Hermione felt her blood turn cold. This was going to happen. He was going to rape her in one of the safest magical places in the world, and no one would know. She screamed and thrashed against him as this realisation hit her, but he was too strong, and she was useless without her wand.

She screamed again as he reached inside of her underwear but what could she possibly do? They were quite far from the school and in a secluded spot; nobody would hear her cries.

As she felt him start to slide down her underwear, she froze and squeezed her eyes closed, trying to pretend she was anywhere but here. This wasn't happening… it wasn't…

A sudden weight crushed down on top of her and Hermione let out a little sob, certain it was happening. In her panic, it took her a moment too long to realise he wasn't inside of her. He wasn't, in fact, moving at all. She opened her tightly closed eyes to see that Slade Temple was lying unconscious on top of her.

Draco Malfoy, a look of fury on his pale face, was rushing towards her, wand in hand.


	17. Chapter 17

**17**

Malfoy hauled Slade from Hermione, who scrambled back, adjusting her clothes as she moved. She reached out a shaking hand and fumbled until she found her wand. Her watery eyes never left Malfoy whose usually pale eyes were dark and murderous.

What was he doing here? Not that Hermione minded in the slightest, of course. He arrived just in time. Minutes later and… Hermione let out a gasping sob, her fingers tightly closing over her mouth, trying to stifle the noise. Her shoulders shook as she gasped in and out.

Malfoy kicked the unconscious body of his fellow Slytherin in disgust before turning his gaze on Hermione. His eyes softened slightly as he took her in. She must have looked a sight.

"You okay, Granger?"

She wasn't okay; she wasn't sure _when_ she would be okay, but she was alive and whole, and her virtue was protected, so she nodded regardless, not trusting herself with words.

Malfoy stepped closer, unfastening his cloak as he moved. "Here," he said, dropping it in a pile in front of her. Hermione lowered her gaze to stare at it but didn't make a move. "For Merlin's sake…" Malfoy crouched down, picking up the cloak and draping it around her shoulders. "I stopped him before he did anything, right?" Hermione nodded. "Then…" he trailed off, throwing his arms out in exasperation. He was trying, Hermione could see he was trying, but he was still Malfoy underneath the effort.

"W-why are you here?" she asked finally, her voice so quiet she was surprised Malfoy heard it at all.

"The bastard was bragging about his plans tonight. Thought I should probably check it out, just in case. You don't seem like a shag on the second date kind of girl."

"But why do you care?" Tears were still streaming down her cheeks, and with her trembling fingers, she wiped at them. Malfoy opened and closed his mouth, apparently unsure how to answer. Finally, he sighed, running his hand through his white-blonde hair.

"I don't know," he confessed.

"Well… thank you." Hermione tried and failed to climb to her feet. Malfoy stood and extended a hand. She hesitated, staring at his hand and nervously biting her lip.

"I'm not going to do anything," he said, a little impatiently, wiggling his fingers. Hermione exhaled and accepted his hand, allowing the Slytherin to pull her to her feet. She adjusted her top again, aware that her hands still hadn't stopped shaking

They stood in silence for a long moment. Hermione shivered inside of Malfoy's cloak, though whether it was from shock or the cold, she wasn't sure. Both, probably.

"Are you going to tell Potter?" Malfoy finally asked, glancing at the still unconscious Slytherin boy. Hermione frowned. Was she? Did she dare tell Harry, or Ron for that matter, of her close call with Slade Temple?

"No," she said, realising it was true. They would kill him and, while Hermione wouldn't mind doing that herself right now, she didn't want them getting into serious trouble on her behalf. Especially seeing as nothing that a calming potion wouldn't fix came of it in the end.

"Wise move," Malfoy said. Come to think of it; he still looked a little like he might kill Temple himself. Hermione wasn't sure how to feel about her knight in shining armour.

"He looks like he might wake up soon," Malfoy said after another moment's awkward silence. "You should probably go, Granger."

"Yeah," she agreed quietly. "Um… thanks again."

"Don't tell anyone about this. I have a reputation to keep." His tone was back to its usual coldness, though his eyes didn't quite match his words. His heart wasn't in bullying her right now, but he had a façade to keep up and being nice to Hermione Granger was not something he was used to.

"Oh, um, right." Hermione glanced down at the ground, unable to make eye contact. Temple stirred again and, after only a moment's hesitation, she started to walk towards the castle but then stopped abruptly. A feeling of anger had overpowered her quite suddenly, and she found that she couldn't walk away - not quite yet.

Hermione turned slowly to see Slade Temple climbing unsteadily to his feet. Her fingers balled into fists, and her teeth ground together. Before she could think it through, Hermione was marching straight back again. She didn't slow as she approached Temple, but accelerated, throwing her whole body with her as she extended her arm, landing a punch square on his jaw. Temple, who was wobbly already, crashed back down and didn't stir.

Malfoy whistled.

"Having been on the receiving end of your right hook, I almost feel sorry for him." Hermione couldn't help it. Whether his comment was funny or whether she was just falling into unstable hysterics, she laughed aloud. After a moment, Malfoy joined in.

"How's your hand?" Malfoy asked as their laughter subsided. Hermione glanced down at her knuckles, a little bruised and red, and shrugged.

"I'm sure it'll hurt like a bitch later," she said uncharacteristically, borrowing Ron's vocabulary.

"You keep surprising me, Granger," Malfoy said softly, eyeing her curiously.

"Recently I surprise myself."

The adrenaline and anger had momentarily halted her spasm shakes, though Hermione had little doubt she would return to a trembling mess by the time she climbed into her bed. She doubted she would get any sleep tonight, and for a very different reason to the previous night. It wouldn't surprise Hermione if she were stricken with nightmares for some time over her close encounter. For now, though, she was enjoying the anger and the other feels that swarmed her busy mind like unrelenting bees.

Their eye contact was unflinching, and neither one wanted to be the first to break it. Eventually, though, Malfoy did, glancing back down at Temple.

"You don't want to be around when he wakes up. You should probably avoid him for a while."

"I could get him expelled."

"You could," Malfoy agreed. "But you won't."

"Why won't I?"

"Because that would be letting him off easy."

Hermione let her gaze return to Temple. Much to her satisfaction, he already had a bruise forming on his chin. When she looked back up, Malfoy was even closer. Startled, Hermione took a step back, but he reached out and took her arm, gently, though, and as non-threateningly as possible.

"M-Malfoy?"

Malfoy didn't speak. He just stared at her for a moment, tilting his head curiously. Hermione felt herself shrink back, slightly uncomfortable with his intensity.

"What's – " Hermione cut off abruptly as Malfoy leant in and kissed her -


	18. Chapter 18

**18**

Draco Malfoy had kissed her! It had only been a peck, and then he had walked off without a second glance her way leaving her more confused than ever. Even so, it had been a kiss! An actual kiss!

Hermione couldn't stop touching her lips. This changed things; it had to. Hermione certainly felt changed. She had been uncertain about her feelings towards Draco Malfoy, but not any longer. Now she knew, now she was _certain_ that she liked him. She didn't know how or when it had happened, but during the past couple of weeks she had gone too deep with the bet, and, as a result, her life now felt like one huge clusterfuck.

She couldn't be with Draco Malfoy. His father would kill him. Her too, no doubt. And what would Harry and Ron say?

Hermione groaned aloud. When had her life become so complicated? When had she become anything other than Hermione Granger, friend of Harry Potter and smartest witch of her generation? She was breaking all of the rules now, and she wasn't sure how to feel about it.

And what was she meant to do about Slade Temple? Malfoy had been right; Hermione would not report him to a professor and nor would she tell Harry or Ron. That meant, though, that she had to face him in every class she shared with Slytherin. Hermione wasn't sure she wanted that either. The boy had almost _raped_ her. If it hadn't of been for Malfoy… Hermione shuddered.

She finally made it to the girl's dormitory only to be pounced on by Lavender and Parvati.

"So?" Parvati demanded. "Your date with Slade Temple? Spill!"

"There's nothing to tell," Hermione said, trying to keep her voice from shaking. If she wasn't going to tell Harry and Ron what had happened, then she certainly wasn't going to tell her roommates.

Lavender was looking her up and down, frowning.

"That's not Slade's cloak," she decided finally. Surprised, Hermione looked down. She was still wearing Malfoy's cloak, having forgotten to return it.

"How can you tell?" she asked wearily. They all looked the same to her.

"Slade is barely taller than you. His cloak wouldn't drag so."

"Well aren't you a detective," Hermione said sarcastically. She wasn't in the mood for this. She just wanted to curl up under her duvet and cry herself to sleep, if sleep were actually at all possible tonight which she doubted.

"How's this for detective work? You've been crying. Come on, tell us what happened!"

"Look, Lavender, it really is none of your bloody business okay?! You may have dragged me into this ridiculous bet, but outside of it, you have no business knowing anything that happens in my life."

Lavender's gaze softened slightly, and she opened her mouth to speak but closed it again. Usually, she was pretty insensitive to other people's feelings, but apparently, tonight she could see that Hermione really wasn't up for her usual inquisition.

Relieved that Lavender had dropped the subject, Hermione grabbed her pyjamas and made her way to the prefect's bathrooms. A hot shower was what she needed right now. A hot shower would help fix all.

The hot water kneaded into the knots in her back, loosening her up a little. Although she wasn't dirty other than a days worth of sweat, Hermione felt as if she were washing away a year's worth of dirt. She could almost envision the water a grubby brown as it rolled down her naked body to her feet and down the plug hole.

She had a couple of small bruises on her hips. She stared blankly at them as the water pooled over her. It really had happened then? Hermione was hoping it had been a nightmare or delusion. If only she were that lucky…

Draco Malfoy's kiss, though. That was surprisingly good medicine.

XxX

"You might want to stay away from Slade, man. He's out for your blood," Blaise warned Draco as soon as he entered the Slytherin common room some time later. He had been walking across the grounds, trying to cool his fury and sort out the screwed up mess in his head.

"That's fine. Crabbe and Goyle can deal with him."

"Is it true?"

"Is what true?" Draco pinched the bridge of his nose. He had a headache.

"Slade reckons you got jealous because you walked in on the two at it like rabbits and punched him." Draco couldn't help but smirk. Embellishing little git.

"He wishes."

"So what happened? He's real pissed."

"The moron was trying to rape her," Draco said, shrugging, trying to pretend it was no big deal. "Couldn't let him tarnish the Slytherin name like that. And it was Granger that punched him."

"Fuck." Blaise looked Draco up and down, not fooled for a second by his flippant attitude. "She okay?"

"Who cares."

"Come off it, man. I don't know what's gotten into you recently, but I'm not blind. You need to tread carefully; your father won't hesitate if he thinks your consorting with dirty blood."

"Why do you think I'm staying away?" Draco said, sighing. "It's bad enough picturing what he'd do to me, let alone what would happen to Granger." Blaise gave his back a pitying slap.

"Hey, where's your cloak?" Shit. Draco looked down and saw that he hadn't claimed it back. Granger still had it. He internally slapped himself as he realised the thought of her wearing it turned him on a little.

"Granger."

"You need to end it, man."

"There's nothing to end."

"You sure about that?"

"Yeah and what about you and the Weaselette?" Draco snapped. It was all very well Blaise lecturing him, but Draco wasn't blind either. He had seen Blaise and Ginny Weasley together in the shadows. He wasn't sure if they were talking or fucking, but either way, it was hypocritical as shit for Blaise to be lecturing him right now. A blood traitor was just as bad as a Mudblood.

"Oh shove off," Blaise said. "You've had a tough night, how about instead of trying to pick fights you go to bed, yeah?"

Bed? Yeah right, as if there was any chance of sleeping tonight!

He


	19. Chapter 19

**19**

As expected, Hermione didn't sleep well. She had large circles under her eyes the next morning that she wasn't skilled enough with makeup to hide.

"Late night?" Ron scowled as she took her usual seat beside of him for breakfast.

"Please Ron," she sighed. "I'm not in the mood."

"Whose cloak is that?" Ron demanded, ignoring her. Hermione had neatly folded Malfoy's cloak and had placed it on the bench next to her.

"Found it," she lied. Right now, lying was simpler than the truth. The truth would end badly; she just wasn't sure who for.

"Temple's staring at you," Ron said. Was he usually so talkative during breakfast? Hermione didn't think so. "Is it his cloak?"

Hermione inhaled and held it. Now that Ron had mentioned it, she could feel Temple's eyes on her. She couldn't bring herself to turn around. She wasn't ready to face him. She wasn't sure she would ever be ready.

"That's a pretty big bruise he's got. You didn't punch him, did you 'mione?" Hermione curled her fingers into the sleeve of her jumper, hiding the bruises.

"Of course not Ronald," she said. "Harry, could I borrow Hedwig?"

"Uh, sure, yeah." Harry was staring between Hermione and Ron curiously. Hermione felt sorry for her friend. He had to deal with both Hermione's secrecy and Ron's jealousy right now. It couldn't be nice.

"Great!" she said, overly chirpy. "I'll see you two later, okay?" Before either could reply, Hermione was on her feet, retrieving Malfoy's cloak, and leaving the Great Hall.

She wasn't sure where she had learnt it, but Hermione knew Draco had a taste for Honeydukes Best chocolate. It wasn't much, but she had to thank him somehow. Mail order to the sweet shop wasn't uncommon. Of course, Hermione could just wait until her next trip to Hogsmeade, but that was two weeks away. There was also the option of the secret passageway, but Hermione had broken enough rules recently, she didn't feel like adding to that list. Beside's, she could be more discreet about it this way, asking them to return Hedwig empty handed and send one of their own owls with the chocolates.

She was halfway towards the Owlery when Crabbe stepped out in front of her, blocking her path. Hermione couldn't help but shrink back, a panic rising in her chest as she thought 'not again.'

"Merlin, Crabbe, no need to be quite so sinister," a voice said, and Draco Malfoy stepped out from behind of his giant friend. Hermione felt herself relax slightly, although that feeling lasted only mere seconds. Malfoy stepped towards her, holding out his hand, his eyes cold. "Cloak."

"Uh… here…" Her hands trembled a little as she went to hand it to him. Why was he being so cold? Last night he'd kissed her, yet today he was acting like the last couple of weeks hadn't happened at all.

Malfoy's eyes narrowed as he stared at the cloak, before shaking his head in disgust. "Keep it," he said. "It's covered in Mudblood germs now. With that, he turned around and walked away, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle. Hermione stood, staring after him, his cloak still in her trembling fingers, more confused than ever.

A minute passed in which Hermione didn't move, confused as she was, and then suddenly he was back, this time alone.

"Merlin, Granger," he said, his voice strange. "What the fuck are you doing to me?" Before she could register him moving, Malfoy was in front of her, his lips on hers. Although surprised, Hermione realised her lips were moving automatically with his, kissing him back. She let him guide her towards a tapestry and gasped aloud as he back pressed against cold stone.

His tongue flickered across her bottom lip, and Hermione moaned. Somewhere deep down she knew this was wrong. She shouldn't be making out with Draco Malfoy, and she certainly shouldn't be enjoying it. However, Hermione's brain had melted into a puddle, and coherent thoughts were not making their way through. All she could think about right now was his body pressed against hers, his hands on her waist (he was unexpectedly gentlemanly with them) and his lips moving perfectly with hers.

Just as Hermione realised this was almost exactly like the dream she had had back nearer the beginning of the bet, Malfoy pulled away.

"Fuck," he said, his eyes narrowing in frustration. "Fuck," he repeated, and then he walked away, leaving Hermione all the more confused and flustered, her cheeks burning hot and her heart racing in her chest.

Fuck indeed.


	20. Chapter 20

**20**

Boy, had he fucked up. What had he been thinking, slipping away from Crabbe and Goyle and returning to Granger? Kissing her like that… fuck! He'd barely been able to pull away; he'd wanted to do so much _more_ than kiss her. His head was so screwed up, and all he could think of was that he was in a shitstorm of trouble. He was falling down the rabbit hole, tumbling too fast, too deep. It was only going to end in tragedy.

It had been easier when he had hated the bloody girl. Though he hadn't hated her at all for the longest time, not really. She had set the wheel in motion back in third year when she had punched him in the face, leaving him humiliated and bruised and just a little bit impressed. He'd watched her more closely after that, seeing how she was loyal to a fault, willing to break the rules when it mattered and braver than he'd ever expected.

She had been such a mousy, bucktoothed thing to begin with, not worth a second glance. As she'd grown up, she had matured into her looks. Draco could no longer deny that she was attractive. Originally Draco had thought the attraction would pass if he fucked her, but he couldn't do that. She was a Mudblood, a Gryffindor and friends with Potter to boot. And so he'd suffered in silence, wanting her more because he couldn't have her. 

In the last couple of weeks, it had become unbearable. It was like Granger was purposely torturing him. She had him by the balls, and she was squeezing hard. Why was she doing that? Why was she breaking the rules? They were meant to hate each other, that was the unsaid agreement, even if, secretly, he had been breaking those rules himself. He hadn't acted on any of it, though, and that was what mattered. And then Granger had screwed it all up, landing herself into detention simply to make him look less bad. I mean, what the fuck?

An owl pecking on his window stirred Draco from his conflicting thoughts. Reluctantly he climbed to his feet and let the tawny owl in. It dropped a small parcel in his hands and then flew off again. It was Honeydukes wrapping, but he hadn't ordered anything. His parents often sent him parcels, but they were always much larger and purposely sent during meals as to stir jealousy amongst the other students.

The package contained a single bar of Honeydukes finest chocolate and a note: _thank you._

Draco sighed. He knew full well who it was from. Granger was sending him gifts now? Crap. He chucked the bar of chocolate on his bed and swore loudly.

"Your head is in one helluva screwed up place, huh?" Blaise was standing at the doorway. The Slytherin boy was good at sneaking up on people. He would make an excellent spy, although Blaise had never expressed any interest in joining the Death Eaters. As questionable as his mother was, and as vain as Blaise could be, he wasn't a bad guy really, especially as he had matured throughout the years. He was the one person Draco felt he could be honest with.

"You've no idea."

"I thought you were ending it?"

"There's nothing to end."

"You said that last time, but are you sure about that, man? You seem like you're in deep." Draco didn't answer. "The chocolate's from her, huh?"

"A thank you gift. Who even does that?"

"Nice people," Blaise shrugged. "None of us are nice, so you're just not used to it. Did Pansy ever give you gifts?"

"Do blowjobs count?" Blaise only laughed.

"Look, man, if you like her that much maybe you should just screw the consequences and go for it."

"And get her killed by my father?"

"What he doesn't know won't hurt him."

"You think there aren't a line of Slytherin's ready to inform him if I step a toe in her direction? Pansy would probably be first."

"Then protect her."

"From my father?"

"Merlin, Draco! I don't know; I'm just trying to help you out. Not acting is screwing you up too much." It was, it really was. But while he was using his excuses as just that, _excuses_ , they were also true. Pansy wouldn't even give him the courtesy of a heads up before she squealed to his father and, while Granger would be safe at Hogwarts, the summer holidays were a whole other question. No doubt his father would murder her and her entire family for 'tarnishing' his son. It was no good.

"You could always keep it secret," Blaise said finally.

"Like you and Weasley?" Blaise opened his mouth to protest but then closed it again.

"Yeah, I guess. You figured it out huh?"

Draco smirked. "Thought you wouldn't touch a filthy blood traitor no matter what she looked like?"

"I could say the same about you and Mudbloods," Blaise countered. "You like who you like, and there's not a whole lot you can do about it."

"And if you don't want to like them?"

"I don't think that factors in, mate."

Draco sighed. He felt so conflicted. On the one hand, he was still Draco Malfoy: Slytherin Prince. He still hated Potter; he still enjoyed mentally torturing people and he still honestly believed he was far superior to most other people.

On the other, though, he was starting to fall for a Mudblood. It was something he had been actively fighting against, something he didn't want to be true. Blaise was right, though; you liked who you liked, and nothing else factored into it. Draco might not want it to be true; he might wish with his entire being that it wasn't, but that didn't make it so. He liked Hermione Granger. He liked her, and those feeling would probably end up in her being killed.


	21. Chapter 21

**21**

Time on the bet was running out, and while Draco had kissed her – twice! – Hermione was none the wiser to what was actually going on. It had been two days since she had last seen him. Two whole days with absolutely nothing to work with. He was avoiding her; she was certain of it. In fairness, what had she expected? He was Draco Malfoy. He didn't like her; he was just messing with her head. It was no doubt a new game of his. She had been a fool to think (and hope) otherwise.

Hermione had to return to her life. She had been neglecting her friends this month, pushing them away in hopes of forming a relationship with one of their worst enemies. It was not something she was proud of.

She was sitting at the lake's edge, trying to force the dirty feeling she got from this area away. If she didn't want Harry and Ron to know about her narrow miss with Temple, then she couldn't let them see her freak out whenever they headed towards the lake.

Besides, she couldn't allow one bad memory to taint hundreds of good ones. Especially the most recent, the one that had happened directly after the bad. Draco Malfoy had saved her and then kissed her. It shouldn't count as a good memory, but Hermione was through fooling herself about how _she_ felt. She liked Draco, a lot. _If_ _only_ her feelings were reciprocated.

If her feelings _were_ reciprocated, would Harry and Ron ever forgive her? Hermione sighed.

"You too, huh?" Hermione startled as she realised Blaise Zabini stood behind her. She tensed a little, her hand falling to her wand.

"Whoa, I come in peace," Blaise said, laughing, holding up his hands. "Though I guess I understand that reaction. Is this where it happened?"

"You know?" Hermione asked quietly. Of course, he knew! Temple probably bragged about the whole experience.

"Draco filled me in. Good job on your right hook by the way." Blaise sat down, a respectable distance from Hermione. A gesture much appreciated.

"Thanks, I guess?" Hermione turned her gaze from the lake to Blaise. "Look, I don't mean to be rude, but what do you want?"

"I know about the bet." There was no beating around the bush; he just came right out with it. Hermione's eyes widened in horrified surprise. If Blaise knew then no doubt, Draco did too! So that was his game, huh? Mess around with her a little, make her think she stood a chance and then ditch her at the last minute?

"H-how?"

Blaise laughed. "A little weasel told me. Don't worry; I haven't told Draco. Why would I ruin the fun?" A little weasel? Ginny! Ron had gotten it wrong when he thought she was chasing after Draco. It was Blaise she had been sneaking around with. Hermione wondered how long it had been going on for? She had been sure Ginny was still obsessed with Harry. Ginny was smart. Perhaps her drooling over Harry was simply a front.

"So if you're not going to tell Malfoy, what do you want?" Hermione demanded. Why was Blaise here? Even if he were secretly dating Ginny it didn't mean that they had to be friends.

"I wanted to give you some advice," Blaise said, shrugging.

"Advice?"

"Draco likes you."

"One, that's not advice and two, it's not true either."

"It is true," Blaise argued. "And my advice is not to give up. He likes your fighting spirit; it's what first drew him to you."

"If you say so."

"You don't believe me?"

"Of course not."

"You know why he's staying away from you don't you?" Blaise asked, ignoring her disbelief. When Hermione shook her head, humouring him, Blaise continued. "He thinks his father will kill you. He's trying to protect you. Show him you don't need protecting. Show him you're not afraid of his father." Blaise stood up. "And if you are scared of his father then end this bet now because you'll have me to deal with if you hurt him." With that, Blaise walked away, leaving Hermione alone in stunned silence.

What he'd said made sense, but could it possibly be true? And if it were true, what was Hermione meant to do about it? Lucius Malfoy couldn't touch her in Hogwarts, but during the summer she was defenceless. She wasn't allowed to use magic, although the rules could be bent for self-defence. Still, he was a full grown man, a Death Eater to boot. If he decided to come after her, it didn't matter how smart she was; she would be dead if he wanted her dead.

A relationship with Draco Malfoy wasn't worth risking either of their lives over. It would be better if she just stepped back, as he had, and got through the rest of Hogwarts pretending none of this had ever happened. If that was the best option, then why did it feel so wrong?

She couldn't help it, though. Hermione had always thought Draco was the bad guy; she had never humoured the possibility of him being anything but. Now that she knew behind it all there was a nice guy, she couldn't help but want to save him. It was more than that. He wasn't just a goal to achieve anymore. Hermione found herself thinking about him, and when she started, she couldn't stop. It wasn't about the bet anymore. Hermione wanted Draco to love her, bet or no bet.

And what of the risk of death that possibly lingered over her? Well, what of it? She was best friends with Harry Potter; her life was almost constantly at risk! Hermione could handle herself, and she didn't need anybody else to save her, certainly not Draco. The more she thought about it, the more it annoyed her that he was apparently ignoring her to protect her.

Hermione wasn't having any of it. She stood up.


	22. Chapter 22

**22**

Hermione hadn't seen Draco all weekend, how she was meant to find him now, she did not know. It wasn't like Hogwarts was small, and if he were in the Slytherin common room, then there was nothing that could be done. Wandering around aimlessly for ages seemed like a stupid idea, but what else could she – _of course_!

Almost running to the Gryffindor common room, Hermione found Harry and Ron sitting by the fire.

"Can I borrow the Mauraders map?" she said in the way of greeting, surprising her two friends. She still had to fix their rocky relationship, but she could do that later – if they would accept her later. For all she knew, they would never forgive her for what she was about to do. That thought should have probably deterred her; after all, surely her friendship with them was far more important than a doomed relationship with their worst enemy. Be that as it may, Hermione had to try. She just _had_ to. She couldn't say why it was so important to her, or why she was willing to risk all for it, but Hermione just knew that she was.

"Um, sure?" Harry startled. He tilted his head and frowned, as if expecting more, a reason perhaps. When Hermione said nothing, he climbed to his feet and headed towards the boy's dormitory to fetch it.

"You going to tell us what's gotten into you yet?" Ron asked with a scowl. If he were angry now, surely he would never _ever_ forgive her. Hermione's heart sunk a little at the thought but she wouldn't allow herself to be swayed. If Ron loved her at all, in any way, shape or form, then he would eventually come around and accept that she had done what she had done for happiness. If he didn't, then Hermione didn't need that kind of negativity in her life. Perhaps it was selfish, but sometimes people needed to be a little selfish to find happiness.

"You'll find out soon enough."

"That's what I'm worried about."

Harry was back before anything else could be exchanged. He held out the map, and Hermione opened it eagerly, her eyes scanning furiously as she searched for Draco.

"Hermione?" Harry said.

"Hm?"

"Things are okay, right? You're not in any trouble?"

"Oh. No. No, I'm fine. I'm sorry I've been so terrible recently. I promise I will explain everything soon. Just give me a little longer, okay?" She smiled encouragingly at her friend who gave her a worried one in return and then returned her attention to the map. "Harry, can I take this with me? I promise I'll keep it safe." If Draco moved before she reached him, without the map, she would be back to square one.

With Harry's permission, Hermione didn't wait to receive the inevitable disappointment that would follow from her two friends but instead headed the trophy room: fitting really.

Draco was standing with his back to her, staring at the now bare walls that had once adorned Peeve's doodles. That was where it had all begun. That was where Hermione had seen something in him that she hadn't seen before. Apparently, it had been mutual.

"Granger," he said, not turning to face her. Hermione stopped walking, surprised. Did he have a map of his own?! With a chuckle, he turned around to face her. "You have a particularly distinct walk. Click, click, click like you're on a mission. Are you?"

"I – " Hermione didn't know what to say. Now that she stood before him, she was at a loss for words, suddenly doubting everything she had only moments ago been so certain about.

"Spit it out, Granger. We've not got all day."

"Do you feel guilty?" she blurted.

"Guilty?" Draco raised a light eyebrow. "Guilty about what, exactly?"

"What you've said to me, how you've treated me?" Something flashed through his eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared.

"Why an earth would I feel guilty?"

She didn't answer. "Blaise came to speak to me."

"He did, did he?" Draco crossed his arms over his chest. He looked uncomfortable, which, weirdly, put Hermione at ease.

"He did." Hermione nodded. "He said some interesting things."

"Like what?"

Feeling suddenly daring, Hermione took a step closer to Draco, and then another, until they were head to head, her looking up into his piercing eyes. Draco audibly swallowed, and the corners of Hermione's lips twitched.

"Like," she said slowly, never breaking eye contact. Who was she? She felt… sexy. Sexy and daring. "The fact that you like me."

"I do, do I?" He was trying not to blink. Hermione thought she could see sweat on his forehead. Was she… making him nervous?

"I don't know." She looked away, biting her lip. She was really getting into this temptress role; perhaps, if working for the Ministry didn't work out for her she could become an actress. It seemed she had an unexplored talent at improvising. "Do you?"

Despite her bravado, Hermione's heart was thumping dramatically in her chest, and she was feeling faint. Sure, she was enjoying herself, but she was also terrified. What if she was wrong? What if Blaise had been wrong? The Draco Malfoy she had known until very recently would curse her to oblivion for her seductive act right now.

Draco looked conflicted between fighting her off and throwing her against the wall to ravish her. Hermione wasn't sure which one she would prefer. She was a virgin after all. If her seduction went too far that wouldn't be the case for much longer. Hermione didn't know how to feel about that. On the one hand, the little temptress act she had spontaneously decided to pull and Draco's reaction to it had turned her on. On the other, she _was_ a virgin, and this was Draco Malfoy in the bloody trophy room for God's sake! Not to mention, she was Hermione Granger, and the Hermione Granger she thought she knew was so not that kind of person!

There was more to her than just the person she thought she knew, though. The past month had proven that to her time and time again.

"Well?" she asked when Draco said nothing, unable to stop herself.

He looked at her, and she looked at him. It felt as if time had stopped. No words were exchanged, no breaths were exhaled. They just… _stared._

"Damn it, Granger," Draco said finally. "Damn it all to hell." He closed the gap, his lips roughly finding hers.

Hermione forgot all hesitation as he manoeuvred her against the wall, his lips never leaving hers. It didn't matter that she was inexperienced. It didn't matter that this was Draco Malfoy or that they were in the trophy room. All that mattered was that he was kissing her and man, it felt _good._

Nerves and tension all melted away. Wrong and rights flew out of the window. Pressed between the wall and Draco, Hermione let her head roll back as his lips moved to her neck. She wondered why she had never done this before. Why she hadn't allowed Krum more than the most sensible of kisses. This… this was incredible. It made her feel weak at the knees, made her stomach somersault and made her womanhood throb with anticipation – and Draco hadn't even done anything yet! Nothing but kiss her, but boy oh boy was he a good kisser. No wonder so many of those girls were eager to meet him in dark corners behind tapestries. Hermione had been missing out.

His lips moved from her neck, and his eyes met hers, unspoken questions in them. Were they really doing this? Did she want it? Would she regret it?

Hermione didn't know how to answer. She definitely wanted it, wanted _him,_ but she couldn't say for sure that it wasn't just the heat of the moment. She couldn't say for sure that it wasn't something she would regret later.

Sensing her hesitation, Draco stepped back. "You're not ready," he said.

The throbbing her in her body said otherwise, but she knew he was right. She wasn't quite there yet. There was something holding her back. Some uncertainty. She didn't know, not for sure. She couldn't be certain that Draco felt for her as she did for him. Even in the heat of the moment, Hermione didn't want to lose her virginity meaninglessly. She had always pictured it special, and a fling with Draco in the trophy room was hardly that.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay." It sounded as if he meant it. "We've got time."

"What does that mean?" She bit her lip in confusion. It was swollen from the kissing.

Draco sighed like he hardly believed what he was about to do. He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Draco?"

His eyes opened again, the blue orbs softening. "You called me Draco." Hermione realised it was true, she had. She wondered when he had stopped being Malfoy to her and had become something more.

"You could always call me Hermione?"

"One step at a time, Granger," he chuckled. "For now, how about you be my girlfriend?"


	23. Chapter 23

**23**

Although they didn't tell anyone, the news was out by the next morning. It spread like hellfire; suddenly everybody knew: Draco Malfoy was dating his sworn enemies best friend, the Mudblood, Granger.

How it got out, neither was certain, but it meant trouble. Their dating being public knowledge meant that soon Draco's entire family would know as well. That was troublesome, but to Hermione, the worst thing of all was that Harry and Ron had found out before she could tell them herself.

They stared at her in disbelief as she came down to the Gryffindor Common Room that next morning. Hermione shrank into herself but didn't stop walking until she stood directly in front of them. She wasn't able to make eye contact. Instead, she stared at a crumb on the floor that had yet to be cleaned away by the house-elves.

Hermione was about to make an off-hand comment about the unfair treatings of house-elves when Ron, redder than a tomato, burst:

"What the hell is going on?!"

"Ronald?" Taken aback by his blunt force, Hermione blinked several times, trying to fight the tears. She couldn't think of anything to say.

"Please tell me there's a reason? Has he got something on you? We can protect you, Hermione; you don't need to resort to… to… to this!"

"Ron," Harry hissed.

"No, Harry! Something is wrong; I just know it!" Despite his words, Ron's anger was directed at Hermione and not Draco. He knew the truth, and it was tipping him over the edge.

"It's nothing like that," Hermione said quietly. Before she could say anything more, Ginny burst into the room, her face as red as Ron's – the curse of having red hair.

"Ronald Weasley!" she yelled, sounding remarkably like their mother. So much, in fact, that the colour drained from his face and his eyes frantically scanned the room before falling on Ginny.

"Ginny?"

"Hermione's your friend! What do you think you're doing yelling at her about something so stupid?" Hermione loved that recently Ginny had her back completely. She expected it had a lot to do with the fact that they were both falling for Slytherins, but either way, she was hugely grateful.

"How's this stupid?" Ron demanded.

"Hermione – " Harry intercepted, quickly, before Ron had a chance to continue or Ginny had a chance to slap him. "Are you okay?" Hermione knew what he was asking. He wanted to know that this was her decision, that she was sound of mind, and that she wasn't in any danger.

"I'm fine," she answered. "I'm happy."

"Then that's fine." He didn't look particularly pleased with the situation, but Harry clearly cared about her enough that he wasn't going to deprive her of happiness like Ron seemed to want to.

"Harry?"

"Ron," Harry said. "She's happy. She's our friend; we should want her to be happy." Hermione felt new tears well up in her eyes, this time of a happier nature. Ron glowered but said nothing. Clearly, he didn't trust himself with words right now.

"Ron…" Hermione trailed off as her best friend looked the other way, refusing to meet her eyes. She felt the tears fall down her cheeks but made no effort to wipe them away. Had she really lost him over this? Of course, she had expected it, but the reality was far worse.

Ginny put an arm around Hermione's shoulders, hugging her against her. Harry smiled awkwardly, not quite meeting her eyes. While he was being supportive, he clearly wasn't keen on the situation either.

"Just so you know, Ronald," Ginny said, her annoyance shining through brightly. "I'm dating Blaise Zabini."

Ron actually fell off his chair.

Ron refused to come down to breakfast with them, but Harry, who claimed he needed to have words with Draco, did. Hermione nervously twisted her hair as she walked, scared for what was about to go down between Harry and Draco.

The Slytherin Prince was alone save for Blaise. Apparently, he had been marked a traitor and outcast from his friends. Hermione felt all the worse as she saw how miserable he looked. Were they making a huge mistake here?

Spotting her, Draco muttered something to Blaise and the two Slytherins stood up. The eyes of nearly the entire Great Hall followed them as they walked over to Hermione, Ginny and Harry and guided them from the room.

"Are you okay?" Draco asked Hermione as soon as they were out of eye - and ear - shot. She guessed her eyes were still red and puffy from her encounter with Ron. She nodded silently and, at least semi-satisfied, he turned to Harry. "Potter?"

"I need to know that this isn't some kind of cruel trick," Harry said, his eyes cold and his stare hard.

"You think I'd do that?"

"Yes."

"That's fair." Draco smiled coldly. "I probably would. However, I can guarantee that that is not what this is."

"I see no reason to trust you."

"Harry," Hermione said, but Draco held up his hand to stop her.

"Potter, I doubt we'll ever see eye to eye about much. Granger's well-being, however, is the one thing we might agree on. I have just lost everything I have ever known for my relationship with her; I think you can rest assure that I would not forfeit such things for a measly prank."

Harry nodded. "If I ever hear you've so much as made her cry…" he threatened.

"You'll do what?" Draco cocked an eyebrow, smirking.

"I'll make you pay." His threat may have fallen flat had it not been for the absoluteness in his tone. He turned to Blaise then, his face remaining neutral. "The same goes for you in regards to Ginny." Ginny looked down guiltily, aware that, in some ways, her relationship with Blaise was worse for him that Hermione's with Draco. Harry liked Ginny, just as Ron liked Hermione.

"Well, I'm quivering," Draco said. "Now, I don't suppose you could clear off?"

"Draco!" Hermione scolded, though she nodded at Harry, encouraging him to go to breakfast without her. Harry hesitated for a moment, staring between the two couples he couldn't understand, and then sighed and left them alone.

"We'll see you later, Dray," Blaise said, taking Ginny's hand. With a quick goodbye, Blaise and Ginny left, leaving Hermione and Draco standing awkwardly together.

"How do you think it got out?" Hermione asked finally. She still wasn't able to meet his eyes. Had she just ruined his life?

"Someone must have overheard something," Draco shrugged. "It was bound to happen sooner or later. Best not to dwell on it." He took Hermione's chin between his fingers, gently forcing her to look at him.

"You don't mind?"

"I don't mind," he said, leaning down to kiss her.


	24. Chapter 24

**24**

Ron wouldn't speak to either his sister or Hermione after that. He barely even spoke to Harry, annoyed that his friend wasn't on his side. He was a stubborn boy, and Hermione could only hope that he would come around soon. Over time, surely, he had to realise he would rather have a friendship with her with Draco in her life, than nothing at all. And if he didn't…?

Hermione didn't want to think about that.

A gentle crushing of leaves underfoot alerted Hermione to Draco's presence. She was out by the lake, having agreed to meet him in the very spot Temple had attacked her. She was pacing, unable to sit down, the discomfort of being here worming away at her.

"Why here?" she asked without turning to face him. He had to know how she felt about this spot. She had tried to spend time here on multiple occasions but never managed to last long.

"This seemed like the perfect spot." She could hear the shrug in his voice. "Granger, if we're to date then you need to be stronger. You're going to get a lot of hate."

"And so this spot helps how?"

"You were at your most vulnerable here. From your pacing, I can see how you hate it. You need to get over that. Beat your emotions away instead of letting them consume you."

Hermione finally looked at Draco. He seemed worried; his face pinched up. "Draco?"

"Mother wrote me," he said after a moment's hesitation. "She begged me to break up with you."

"You're worried about your safety?" she asked softly. Draco shook his head, his eyes full of surprise at her misguess.

"I'm worried about _yours._ "

"You think your father will really go after me?" Hermione wasn't sure how to feel about it. It scared her, of course, but she had known it was a definite possibility when she had agreed to date Draco.

"I've little doubt he'll try something."

"You know I've handled worse than your father, right?"

"None of those things was ever personal against you, though," Draco pointed out. He really did look worried; it touched Hermione's heart a little.

"It'll be fine, Draco," Hermione said, taking a step closer to him, taking his hands in hers. "He can't do anything while I'm here, and I'm not leaving Hogwarts anytime soon. Beside's, I'm more worried about what he'll do to _you._ "

"Don't you worry about me," Draco said, softly brushing his fingers against her cheek. It was nice seeing this tender side to him that she had never expected. It made her feel a little sad that they had wasted this much time. She couldn't help but wonder what it would have been like if there had been no rivalry between their houses, if they had found each other sooner.

She moved her cheek into his palm and let her eyes close, her lashes tickling her skin. She felt Draco move closer to her, his free arm wrapping around her waist.

"So," he said, his breath tickling her ear. "How do you feel?"

"Huh?" Her eyes semi-opened.

"Being out here, where it happened?" Hermione had momentarily forgotten where they were standing and what had happened in that spot. She smiled as she realised this.

"Being here with you… it's not so bad."

"Glad to hear it." He brushed his nose lightly against hers and Hermione let her eyes flutter close again. His lips pressed against hers, so gently they were barely there.

When, however, his hand slipped ever-so-slightly under her top, just to rest on her hip, Hermione pulled away quickly.

"Granger?"

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice a little panicky. "You touching me like that here… it just – " She didn't know how to finish, how to explain. Draco touching her was amazing. Hermione wanted that more than anything. But here, in this spot, she couldn't help but flinch and picture Temple. She couldn't help but forget for a moment that she wasn't in danger, that he wasn't trying to force her.

"Hey, it's okay," Draco soothed sounding most unlike himself. "It was too much too soon."

"It's not that!" she said quickly. Hermione looked away as her cheeks flushed red. "I – you – It's just… this spot. I can't."

"What are you saying?" Draco quirked an eyebrow, looking somewhat amused.

"Should we – Let's…" Hermione was flustered. She couldn't find the words. Her cheeks were burning although it was a little chilly outside.

"Why Granger, are you propositioning me?" Draco teased.

"No! What?!" Draco burst out laughing at Hermione's reaction. She couldn't look him in the eye. She wasn't used to any of this whereas Draco was an expert. His laughter softening, Draco tilted Hermione's head so that her gaze fell back on him.

"You're quite cute; you know that Granger?"

"And you're unexpectedly nice," she replied suspiciously. She liked this Draco Malfoy, but she doubted him. She doubted that he'd hang around for long and the horrible person she was used to would make a return.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No," she said. "But –"

"But?"

"But you will." She tried to keep eye contact this time, but it was hard when she saw the hurt in his eyes.

"Granger, I would never hurt you. I – " He cut off. Was he about to say he loved her? Hermione felt ashamed of herself that the bet was even popping into her mind at a moment like this. It would be nice, though, to win. And to have Draco's love, of course. Knowing for sure that he felt that way, that would be pure bliss. The little part of her thinking about the bet couldn't let it go, though, and she hated herself for it.

"You?"

"I want to protect you," he said. "Even from myself." She was a little disappointed, but she hid it well. After all, this relationship was more important than any stupid bet, even if the perfectionist in her was screaming otherwise. The perfectionist was one of her biggest flaws, and Hermione was always happier when she turned down the volume on it.

"I don't want protecting from you," Hermione said, and then she kissed him.


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N:** So… possibly here's that lemon I promised… (Are they still called lemons? I'm so out of touch with fanfiction ha!)

 **25**

There was one night left. One more night for Hermione to get Malfoy to profess his love. If he didn't, well, by breakfast, the next morning she would be the laughingstock of the whole school. It wasn't just about that, though. Hermione genuinely wanted him to say it. She wanted to know for certain that he felt the same as she. She wanted to know that this wasn't a game of some sorts to which he was seriously committed. The words would prove that to her.

"Not long left," Parvati said.

"Yeah, what are you doing here?" Lavender asked. Hermione was in the girl's dormitory with the other girls who were getting ready for bed.

"I just wanted to see if you're worried." Hermione shrugged, smiling slightly.

"Why would I be worried?"

"I'm about to go and meet Draco." Despite her bravado, Hermione's stomach was doing somersaults. She didn't know how this night would go and certainly not how it would end. Anything could happen, and Hermione wasn't actually certain what it was she _wanted_ to happen. If he did say he loved her, would it be real? Or would it be the result of some cruel trickery on her part? After all, this relationship was a product of Lavender's bet. Hermione would never have pursued the Slytherin Prince otherwise.

"Are you – ?!"

"She is!" Parvati and Lavender exchanged, their eyes wide. Hermione looked between the two, confused.

"You're going to have sex with him, aren't you?" Lavender squealed, rushing over to Hermione and taking her hand. "Wow, so you really like him huh?"

"I – you don't know what you're talking about," Hermione grumbled, blushing. Was she planning to have sex with Draco? She wasn't certain. Of course, it was a definite possibility, and Hermione couldn't deny that she wanted him, _a lot_. She didn't want to force anything, though, and she didn't want to do anything she was uncomfortable with.

"Oh come of it!" Lavender scoffed. "You're so obvious! Do you need a condom? I think I've got one left." She started rooting through her bag before Hermione could protest.

"Have you done it before?" Parvati asked, before rolling her eyes and laughing shortly. "Of course you haven't! Do you want any advice?"

"Look," Hermione protested. "This isn't – " Lavender pressed a condom in her palm before she could finish. Hermione blushed but discreetly pocketed it when her roommates weren't looking. If there were protection spells for this sort of thing, Hermione didn't know them. Draco probably did – the thought made her heart sink a little. Just how many girls had he slept with?

"The first time hurts a little," Lavender said. "But Draco is an expert, so I'm sure you'll be fine." What was that supposed to mean? Seeing the expression on Hermione's face, Lavender laughed and shook her head. "No, I've never shagged him. I've just heard stories. We all have. Even you, prude."

"You've got this all wrong," Hermione tried again, fighting against her blush.

"Oh of _course_ we do. You're just sneaking out after hours to _chat_." When she said it like that… Hermione couldn't help but worry what it was Draco was expected of her tonight.

Hermione met Draco outside the Room of Requirements. He was leaning against the wall, his expression deadpan.

"Granger." He let a small smirk play across his features as he noticed Hermione approach. The butterflies in Hermione's chest burst into a flutter. "Hope you don't mind, but I went ahead and picked the room." Hermione tried to keep her face expressionless. She daresn't imagine what awaited her behind the closed door. A king size bed in a room of candles? She shuddered at the thought.

"You okay?" He looked momentarily worried, his smirk softening into a look of concern. He glanced back at the door as if suddenly doubting his choice.

"Of course," she lied easily. "Shall we go in before Filch or Mrs Norris catches us?"

"Come on then." Draco reached out for the handle but paused. "Wait," he said. "Close your eyes."

Hermione hesitated, before doing as requested. She could feel her heart in her throat, pounding away. _Please don't let it be a sex dungeon._

Draco guided her into the room, holding her hand as he led her in deeper. Hermione heard the door click shut behind her.

"Can I open them?" She felt a little like Belle from Beauty and the Beast as she was led into the library. Hermione doubted her surprise would be anything close to that, though.

"Not yet." She could hear the laugh in his voice. With Draco guiding her, she took another small step forward, and then another. "Okay…" He paused for dramatic effect. "Now you can open them."

Hermione audibly gasped.

The Room of Requirements was unlike she had ever seen it before. She hadn't even imagined it possible. Her eyes scanned up and down, wide with awe.

"Do you like it?" Draco asked nervously.

"Like it?" Hermione breathed. "I _love_ it."

They were standing on a grassy bank by the edge of a lagoon, the water a crisp, transparent blue. Waterfalls trickled gently down the edges of the cavern-like walls. On the bank, there was a blanket surrounded by cushions and candles. It was a safety hazard if she'd ever seen one, but they were two wizards in a magical room that was unlikely to catch fire, and so Hermione let it slide.

"I thought we'd go for a swim," Draco said.

"I haven't a swimsuit."

"A swimsuit?" Draco sounded horrified. "Granger, have you never heard of skinny dipping?"

"Oh." Hermione felt herself blush. Oh, indeed.

She had – partially – emotionally prepared for sex, so the idea of getting naked in front of Draco Malfoy shouldn't have filled her with dread. But boy it did.

"You needn't look so scared," he said, sounding both amused and a little irritated. "I won't make you do anything you don't want to."

"I know that," she said quickly. "I've just… never…"

"Skinny dipping is the best kind of swimming. There's a certain thrill in it, even when you are alone."

"Well, okay. I guess?"

"If it makes you feel more at ease, I can turn away until you're in?" Hermione nodded and, once Draco had turned away, she started to undress. Her dress pooled to the floor around her ankles, and she looked down hesitantly at her bra and knickers, specially picked out for their evening together. What was the point in going to all that effort if he wasn't going to see? Cheeks once again flushing red, Hermione realised she _wanted_ him to see.

Stepping carefully out from the dress circling her, Hermione stepped over to Draco and lightly placed her arms around his waist. He turned slowly, curiously, and his eyes widened as he caught sight of her in her red laced underwear.

"Granger?" She kissed him before he could say anything else: a soft, shy, kiss. His hands found her lower back as he kissed her back, taking charge but keeping it gentle. Hermione moaned as his tongue lightly brushed her lower lip and, encouraged, he kissed her a little more forcefully. His hands slid lower, until they rested on the lace of her underwear. Hermione wound her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, no longer feeling shy.

Draco's lips moved to her neck, caressing the flesh with gentle kisses. She rolled her head and moaned at the contact, unsure that she had ever before felt so amazing.

"Draco," she moaned, her fingers threading through his hair. At the sound of his name, Draco's hands tightened on her bum and pulled her closer against him. She could feel his erection on her bare flesh, and suddenly Hermione became aware of just how dressed he was compared to her. Not liking that fact one bit, she fumbled to amend it, sloppily unbuttoning his shirt. Draco chuckled and gently knocked her fingers away, finishing the job for her much faster than she was managing.

"You'd think you'd never undone a shirt before," he teased. Hermione looked away. She had undone many shirts, but they had all been her own. She had never undressed another human being before and certainly not in such an intimate situation. Seeming to realise this, Draco kissed her forehead.

"Here, sit down," he said, guiding her to the blankets. He looked her up and down as they sat together, his eyes full of lust he was clearly trying to contain. Hermione herself could barely take her eyes from his chest. He was a skinny boy, true enough, but his muscles were well defined and his chest hairless.

"You have no idea what you are doing to me right now," he told her. Hermione thought she did have an idea. She leant forward, leaning on her palms and knees and kissed him. Draco groaned, all self-restraint leaving, and flipped her over so that her back was pressed against the blanket and he was hovering above her, a playful look on his face.

"Do you know how long I've pictured this?"

"You have?" she asked, surprised. "How long?"

"I've wanted you since the third year, Granger." He was almost growling, his gaze moving from her face, down the length of her scantily dressed body and back again.

"Really?" This revelation shocked her the most. She had been certain he hated her. Certain he wouldn't touch her with a pitchfork.

"Really." He moved his lips to her ear and whispered the word. His warm breath tickled her neck and Hermione moaned. Grinning, Draco trailed kisses down her neck, moving lower until he reached her bra. "I think we should lose this," he said, expertly unclipping it. Hermione was too blissed out to feel embarrassed, her eyes fluttering shut as he sucked gently on her nipple.

Her back arched as he continued his trail of kisses, moving down her body slowly, tantalisingly. When he reached her knickers, he took the elastic between his teeth and pinged it against her flesh, causing her to buckle.

He looked up at her from between her legs, silently asking her a question. When Hermione didn't protest, he slipped the red lace down her legs and abandoned it to one side. He kissed up her thigh until he reached the wetness between her legs and then he kissed there as well. Hermione gasped aloud, her head rolling as her back arched. Never before had she felt anything like _this._ She could see stars. She could feel the universe.

"Draco," she gasped. He slid up her body, reaching her lips. He tasted of her, and Hermione was surprised that she liked it. "Draco," she repeated. He met her eyes, his gaze intense, and she nodded. Hermione didn't know when he'd taken off his trousers, but there he suddenly was, all of him, sliding inside of her.

She arched her body against his, and there was pain, yes, but there was also an overwhelming feeling of wholeness as if she had been missing a part of herself that had now been returned. 

"Do you want me to stop?" Draco asked, misreading her teary eyes.

"No," she gasped. "Never stop." And they moved as one until they came together, gasping out in pure bliss.

For a while they lay, naked, in each other's arms. When Draco kissed her, Hermione felt time stop. She couldn't help herself when she blurted: "I love you."

Draco didn't say it back.

Hermione climbed into the lagoon and swam, trying to pretend her tears were just splashes from the water she glided through.


	26. Chapter 26

**26**

Hermione didn't sleep that night. She lay silently crying, afraid to let Lavender or Parvati hear her. She had told Draco she loved him. Not because of the bet but because at that minute she genuinely did. Her heart had been filled with love, ready to burst.

But he hadn't said it back. Hermione was more confused now than ever. Had Draco gotten what he had wanted? Had this all been an elaborate setup after all? A prank? He had been so distant with her after she said it that Hermione wasn't even sure she could put it down to nerves.

If she'd been told a month ago that she would feel this way, that she would spend the night crying over Draco Malfoy, she would have said 'I wouldn't give him the satisfaction.' She had been on a journey that was for sure, and she had come out a different person with different beliefs and feelings. She wasn't who she'd been a month ago.

"Come on loser," Lavender said, far too chirpy. "Shall we get this over with?" Hermione glared, and Lavender's gaze softened. "If it makes you feel better, I was sure he would say it back."

"You were?"

"Oh totally. You know, that's why I made this bet? You clearly fancied each other. You just needed a push in the right direction." Hermione stopped walking to look at Lavender. Was that true? Had Lavender, in her own weird way, been trying to help? "What?"

Hermione shook her head. "Never mind."

In the Great Hall, Lavender and Parvati made sure to sit with Hermione. "Wait until everyone's here," Parvati whispered.

Lavender seemed surprised that Hermione wasn't begging her way out of the bet. Hermione wouldn't give her the satisfaction. Besides, she deserved this for tricking Draco so. Him not loving her wasn't punishment enough, Hermione decided. This entire bet had been trickery and shambles, and she deserved to suffer for it.

The hall filled up quickly, students hungry and eager for their breakfast. Even the entirety of school ghosts seemed to be in the hall. It was as if they knew and eagerly anticipated what was about to come.

Hermione made a conscious effort not to look over at the Slytherin table where she knew Draco sat. Even if she wanted to, she couldn't look at him. Not after last night.

Harry and Ron were two of the last students to file into the Great Hall. As they made their way over, Hermione decided it was time. She sought out Ginny who looked briefly surprised, as if she hadn't realised what day it was, and then nodded. It was an encouraging nod. A 'you go girl' nod.

"Hermione?" Harry asked as she walked past them. She didn't respond or even look at her two friends. Well, they would have their answers soon enough.

"Do you think she'll do it?" she heard Parvati ask. By the time Lavender replied, Hermione was too far away to hear.

She approached the Professor's table slowly, aware that Dumbledore was watching her curiously. Of course, _he_ knew. Dumbledore always knew.

"Granger?" Professor McGonagall asked curiously as she approached the table. It took everything Hermione had to ignore her. She couldn't be distracted. Any distraction could result in her backing out. Hermione couldn't back out, she'd come too far.

"Professor Snape?" Her voice came out as a croak. She cleared her throat and repeated herself. The look the Potions Master gave her almost had her wanting to hide under the table, but she persisted.

"I'm sorry, but I have to get this off my chest." She took another step forward until she was almost directly in front of him. "I know it can't be, but you have to know, I _need_ you to know, that I love you."

Before she could back out, or the Professor could act, Hermione leant across the table and kissed him square on the lips. 

She left the hall to an eruption of wolf whistles and cheers.

Later, as Hermione was sitting alone by the lake, Harry, Ron, Ginny and Blaise came to find her.

"That was _awesome!_ "

"Why didn't you tell us?" Ron asked, trying and failing to sound angry. Clearly, she was forgiven.

"Tell you what?"

"That the whole thing was a bet!"

"Oh, right, _that."_ Hermione shifted awkwardly. "Because it became so much more than that."

"So you really like him?"

"Yes. Is that okay?"

"Well, it's not great," Ron said. "But I guess I can try and get used to the idea." Hermione felt her heart lighten as if a huge weight had been lifted from her chest.

"I'm so proud of you!" Ginny said. "You should have hung around; it was spectacular!"

"I thought Snape was going to explode," Blaise laughed. He was holding Ginny's hand. Hermione could see him trace circles on her flesh. She looked away.

"Dumbledore had to tell the entire hall it was a bet," Harry said. "Otherwise I think Snape might have cursed you into next week."

"How did Dumbledore know, though?"

"Doesn't miss a trick that man!"

"But the fact that he let it continue…" The excited chatter continued for a few minutes, but Hermione could hardly keep up. Her mind was elsewhere, and while she smiled outwardly, inside there was just… emptiness.

"That was some show, Granger," a voice drawled. Hermione's head shot up, her heart thumping as she realised Draco had snuck up on the group. "I have to say; I didn't think you had it in you. I was certain you'd back out."

Hermione took a moment to catch up. "You… _knew?_ "

Draco glanced at Blaise, who smiled sheepishly. "Guilty," he said. "In fairness, when I spoke to you that day I hadn't told him, though."

Hermione wasn't sure whether to be mad or relieved. She turned her gaze back to Draco, full of hope.

"Uh, we'll… we'll catch you later Hermione," Ginny said abruptly, standing up. She had to kick Ron before he followed, but after a moment, the group of four left. Hermione watched them go with a sinking feeling of fear. She didn't know what to expect. She didn't know whether Draco hated her.

"I'm sorry," she said quickly, unable to meet his eyes.

"Oh I'm not mad," he said, surprising her. Hermione looked up, meeting his eyes. "If you hadn't of agreed to the bet we would still be throwing insults at each other." Did that mean…? Hermione hardly dared to believe it.

"You… don't hate me?"

"Hate you?" he looked surprised. "Of course not Granger. If anything, I probably love you."

Hermione opened and closed her mouth. She couldn't help but feel a little annoyed. He really was messing with her, wasn't he?

"And you couldn't say that last night?"

"And let you walk away scot-free?" Draco asked. "Call it my revenge. For the bet," he clarified.

"Oh yeah?" Hermione asked. She took a step closer to him. "Are you sure it wasn't for a different reason?" Draco cocked an eyebrow questioningly. "Did you enjoy watching me kiss Snape?"

Before he could answer, Hermione kissed him.

 **The End.**

 **A/N:** And there we have it! The slightly improved version of Wilted Rose! (I'm aware that it's still mostly completely crap but I was cranking it out quickly so what do you expect haha!) I'd like to say that I'd do a sequel of them having to deal with Draco's dad but I wouldn't want to promise something that quite possibly won't happen. We shall see! Thanks to those of you that read the whole thing and to those of you that reviewed. Much appreciated! xxx


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